


éramos solo friends

by rjtondale



Series: éramos solo friends [1]
Category: Feid - Fandom, Lenny Tavárez - Fandom, Music RPF, Reggaeton RPF, Reggaetón Music RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Co-Parenting, Ensemble Cast, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Parenthood, Roommates, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Wedding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 37,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24474154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rjtondale/pseuds/rjtondale
Summary: Lenny & Feid co-parent a baby.
Relationships: Lenny Tavárez/Feid
Series: éramos solo friends [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885225
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. no eres lo mismo de antes [feb 2023]

**Author's Note:**

> new chapters on sundays.

“Somebody is looking at us,” Lenny says.

“So?” Feid replies, but he pulls his hat down lower as he says it. “People are always looking at us.”

“Old white ladies?”

“Mm, okay. Usually not old white ladies.”

Before Lenny can say anything more, the ladies turn to one another, exchange a few words, and approach Lenny and Feid. Lenny glances at Feid, but Feid is playing with the brim of his hat again, probably bracing himself for a photo or an autograph. Lenny runs a hand through his own hair.

But with every step, it becomes more clear that these women are not interested in Lenny or Feid at all.

“Hi, sweetie,” the older lady coos, bending down to peer into the stroller. “Aren’t you cute?”

“Um,” Lenny says.

“She’s not talking about you,” Feid says.

“I know,” Lenny says. He’s still not sure how to reply to the comment. Does he thank them?

“Thank you,” Feid says for him.

The woman continues as if she hadn’t even heard, anyway. “You are so cute, yes you are! Are you shopping today? Are you having fun?”

“Are they a boy or a girl?” the other asks, ignoring her companion.

“A baby,” Lenny answers. He wants to keep moving, just roll the stroller over these ladies’ feet and be on his way, but of course there are a thousand reasons why he can’t do that, not least of which being that he’d never hear the end of it from Feid.

Feid rolls his eyes. “A girl,” he says.

“And what a pretty girl!” the older woman cries. Lenny and Feid share a glance. Maybe Lenny _should_ run her over. 

“Mom,” the younger woman warns. Then, to Lenny and Feid, “And you’re her fathers?”

“No,” Lenny says, at the same time Feid says, “Yes.”

Even the mother looks up at that. Both women wear matching confused expressions. “No?” Feid echoes.

“I mean —" Lenny starts, then clears his throat. The statement still feels wrong on his tongue, but he has to say it. “She’s mine.”

“I’m just… helping,” Feid adds.

 _Understatement of the year_ , Lenny thinks.

“How lovely,” the older lady says. Then she bends down again and repeats in nearly a shriek, “How lovely! Isn’t it lovely?”

Feid touches Lenny’s elbow. It’s a light touch, but it’s enough to hold him back another moment. “We should go,” Feid says.

“Of course. Mom?” The daughter practically drags her mother away from the stroller. “Have a nice day,” she says, then mouths, _I’m so sorry._

As they’re walking away, Lenny hears the older woman say, “What nice boys. When is your daughter going to find a nice boy and have a baby?”

It takes everything in Lenny not to run after them and scream, _You can take this one!_

Only Feid’s hand, still on Lenny’s elbow, stops him. Together they’ve managed to keep this kid alive for almost three weeks, but Lenny is still struggling to feel anything but resentment when he looks at her. Three weeks down, eighteen years to go.

“You okay?” Feid asks.

Lenny shakes his head, but he says, “Yeah.” He shrugs Feid’s hand off. “What’s next on the list?”

Feid wants to press it, Lenny can tell, but he won’t let him. He pushes forward, and Feid follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter one title from [badwine remix](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkWHMFsgmls).


	2. me gustas más así, cuando confías en mí [feb 2023]

Feid straps Ivy into her car seat while Lenny loads their groceries into the back. He’s already getting the hang of this shockingly complex contraption; the first time, it felt like he was wrestling with it for three hours, and now it barely takes five minutes.

He wonders idly whether it will be easier or harder when Ivy is bigger, doing more than just blinking up at him with those big brown eyes. Not that it matters — any day now, Ivy and Lenny will move out, and Feid won’t have to worry about car seats anymore.

Never mind that it’s already been three weeks since Ivy and Lenny showed up on his doorstep, and they haven’t left yet. In fact, they seem to be settling in.

Feid is still thinking about that first night as they ease out of the parking lot and onto the street. Lenny drives more carefully now, Feid thinks, or maybe it’s just his imagination. He watches Lenny’s face for a moment, then turns to look out the window instead.

“Lenny,” Feid says suddenly.

“What.”

“Why me?”

“Why you what?”

Right — Lenny still can’t read his mind. “With Ivy. Why’d you come to me?”

Lenny doesn’t answer. When Feid glances at him again, his knuckles are white on the steering wheel. Just as Feid is about to say _never mind_ , Lenny says, “You’re the only one I trust.”

Feid doesn’t know what kind of answer he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. “Oh,” he says.

Again, Lenny doesn’t answer. Feid wants to ask another question, push him a little; they never did _talk_ about all this. He could ask why Lenny doesn’t trust their friends, his producers, why Feid was the first to come to mind. He could ask what Lenny’s parents and his sisters think about this. He could — _should_ — ask how long exactly Ivy and Lenny are planning to stay.

Instead, he says, “We should’ve gotten more cat food. I forgot we’re almost out.”

“Damn. I’ll go back tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Behind Feid, Ivy makes a small happy noise, as if she’s reminding them she’s there. As if they could forget. “You’ll watch her?” Lenny asks.

“Of course.” Feid pauses. “Or I could go.”

“You can’t drive.”

“So? I could Uber.”

“I’ll go. It’ll be faster if I just drive.”

“And cheaper,” Feid finishes for him.

Lenny snorts. Ivy may be expensive, but it’s not like they need to pinch pennies right now.

But that thought gets Feid thinking about work, and moments later, he’s tapping out garbled, typo-filled lyrics into the Notes app on his phone. He can feel Lenny’s eyes on him every now and then, but he doesn’t say anything more. They’ll be home in a minute.

His home. Not theirs. No matter how settled-in they are already. He writes that down, too: _mine, yours, ours_. He may not be able to record much with an infant in the apartment, but at least he can write. He always did work better with other people around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter two title from [LOYAL](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FL7icWyial0).


	3. parece menor de edad [mar 2023]

“She’s barely four months old,” Lenny says, setting his fork down. “I really have to start looking _now?_ ”

“Yeah. I mean, if you care about her getting into a good one.” Dalex points at Lenny. “Look, Patricia is already looking for one for the twins, and they’re not even due ’til August. You’re, like, six months behind.”

Lenny exhales, long and slow. It’s not worth it to correct Dalex on the timeline; technically, he didn’t even know that Ivy existed until his ex showed up with her two months ago. Just the idea that he has to start researching preschools two years in advance is enough to give him a migraine.

“What about Zara?” he asks.

“What about her?”

“Is she going to a ‘good school?’”

Dalex rolls his eyes at Lenny’s air quotes. “We started looking as soon as we knew we wanted to adopt, but obviously you can’t apply anywhere for a hypothetical kid. Sech’s friend’s cousin or somebody works admissions at her school. They got her in.”

“And you can’t just send the twins there?”

Another eye roll, but this one doesn’t seem directed at Lenny. “Don’t say that to Patricia. She has to _thoroughly_ research all our options.” Dalex pauses to take a bite, and Lenny waits. His own lunch is growing cold in front of him, but his appetite is gone. “We’ll probably send them to her school, anyway. It’s good.”

“And I guess I can’t say ‘it’s just preschool,’” Lenny sighs.

“See, that’s how I know you don’t have a wife.”

“Ouch.”

“You know what I mean. Patricia, she thought it through all the way for Max and Zara. Maria did too, with the older kids. They know.” He counts off each point on his fingers. “If you start looking early, they can go to the best preschool, which gets them into the best grade schools, and then blah blah, you blink and they’re at Harvard. Yare is already talking about law school, and she’s a sophomore.”

Lenny raises his eyebrows. “That seems like overkill.”

“Right? I mean, I went to like four different public schools, and I turned out fine.” Dalex shrugs. “I guess it’s different now.”

“It’s different when you have money.”

Dalex nods and points his fork at Lenny. He doesn’t talk with his mouth full, thank God, but he just keeps nodding. It’s disconcerting.

“Do other parents recognize you?” Lenny asks.

“What other parents?”

“Like, at the kids’ schools. I don’t know. You’re _Dalex_. And I’m _Lenny Tavárez_. People know us.” _They know Salo, too_ , he thinks but doesn’t say. He hardly knows if Feid will be in the picture a month from now, let alone two years down the road. It doesn’t matter. “Is it weird?”

“Oh. Yeah, but like, not after the first day or two. And the teachers are pretty much used to it. I think J. Lo’s kids went to Yza and Max’s school for a minute. We’re nobody.”

“The kids don’t care?”

“You think the kids know who we are?” Lenny shrugs, and Dalex shakes his head. “Yare’s friends do, but teenagers don’t care about anything. Ivy and the twins will be listening to… fuck, I don’t even know.”

“We’re old, cabrón,” Lenny says.

“Man, I got a kid in high school. You think I don’t know I’m old?”

“Weren’t you like twelve when she was born?”

“Fuck you. I was almost eighteen. At least I’m not fifty with an infant.”

“Fuck _you_. I’m not fifty. And you’re about to have _two_ infants.”

“Don’t remind me.” Dalex takes a long drink. Lenny matches him. “Speaking of old men. How’s Feid doing?”

“He’s…” Lenny starts, but he doesn’t know how to finish. It’s not like they’re in the habit of talking about their feelings. Lenny answers as honestly as he can. “You know how he is. He wouldn’t complain if he were literally on fire.”

“He’s going to let you live there forever,” Dalex says.

“Who says I’d want to?”

“I mean.” Dalex shrugs. “It’s been, what, two months now? I get that you’re probably putting it off like you do everything else, but —"

“Hey!”

“— but unless you two are fucking —"

“ _What?_ ”

It comes out loud enough that the couple at the next table over glances at them. Lenny continues in a harsh almost-whisper. “We are _not_ fucking. What the fuck?”

“I’m just saying. If you are, it’s fine.”

No, it’s not. It’s not fine. Or rather, it wouldn’t be fine. He doesn’t see Feid like that. He doesn’t see _men_ like that — or at least, he hasn’t in a long time. Maybe Dalex is right; he should look for a way to move out.

But that thought leaves him with a hollow feeling in his chest that he can’t quite name. He takes a drink, but it doesn’t go away.

“We’re not,” he says. He grasps desperately for a subject-change, but suddenly he can’t think of anything but Feid. Feid and Ivy. Feid and _Lenny_ and Ivy. “Can’t Sech’s cousin’s brother get Ivy into Z’s school, too?”

Dalex snorts. “It’s his friend’s cousin. His cousin’s brother? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Whatever. Can’t they?”

“Well, yeah, maybe. But…”

Then Dalex is off talking about teacher-student ratios and learning goals and classroom environments. Lenny is barely half listening; the dull pain in the back of his head is starting again as he sees two years’ worth of research unfold in front of him. He doesn’t dare ask what “Montessori” even means.

But at least Dalex isn’t talking about fucking Feid anymore. Lenny can’t help but wonder if Dalex’s assumption is shared by… well, anyone. Their friends, their fans, strangers who see them together with Ivy in the grocery store. Bizarrely, his first instinct is to ask Feid what he thinks.

No. He won’t mention this part to him. He and Dalex talked about preschools for Ivy and the twins, and that’s it. And maybe when Lenny gets home — _not_ home — he’ll start looking at apartments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from [caviar](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvj5Fpok9bY).


	4. cuando estés resfriado te lo curo [mar 2023]

It takes a long time for the video call to connect; Manuela still has the worst WiFi in Medellín. Feid taps his desk, runs a hand through his hair. He thinks about texting her, but that will probably add another five minutes to their wait. He watches his own face on the screen instead.

Finally, after what feels like an hour, his sister’s pixelated face appears. She’s smiling wide, and he can’t help but smile back. “Hey, Manu,” he says.

“Hey,” she says. But as soon as the picture clears and they can see each other properly, her smile drops. “Are you okay?”

“Am I — what? Yeah, why?”

“You look _exhausted_.”

Feid laughs, but it sounds tired even in his own ears. “Manu, I have a baby.” He shakes his head and amends, “Living with me. There’s a baby living in my apartment.”

“I know. I know. But… Salo, you look worse every week.”

“Thanks.”

Manu waves her hand. “You know what I mean. Tired. Like you could pass out any second. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, we’ve been…” He takes a deep breath, then it all spills out at once. “Ivy was sick, and then Lenny got sick, but you know how he is, he just keeps going until he runs himself into the ground and it takes twice as long to get better, and —"

“Salo,” Manu interrupts. “Breathe.” He does. It helps; he can feel his heart rate slowing. “Are they better now?”

As if on cue, Lenny erupts into a coughing fit from the living room. Feid rubs his eyes. “Ivy is. He’ll get over it in a couple of days.”

“And how are you?”

“I’m fine. My immune system is better, I guess.”

Never mind that he woke up this morning with a dull ache in the back of his head. It’s probably nothing. Change in air pressure.

“How are you?” he asks.

“I’m fine. Staying busy — we need to talk work at some point, too. But, hermanito, I’m worried about you. When are they moving out?”

Feid thinks for a moment. “I don’t know. I’m glad they’re here now. I don’t know what Lenny would do by himself, if they were both sick. They’d probably be over here asking for my help anyway.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

Is he okay with that? It’s not like he really has a choice; Lenny is one of his best friends, and even if he wasn’t, Feid couldn’t just leave him to struggle with Ivy alone. Lenny aside, Ivy deserves better than that.

“Salo?” Manu prompts.

“It’s fine,” he says.

She knows he’s not telling the whole truth, but she doesn’t call him on it. Instead she says, “You should talk to him.”

“I talk to him every day.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

Feid shrugs. “I will. I promise I will. When he’s feeling better. If I talk to him now, he won’t even remember it in an hour, he’s got so much medication in him.”

“Okay. Let me know if there’s anything I can —"

Before Manu can finish the sentence, she’s interrupted by a cry from the other room. Feid sighs and stands. “Sorry,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”

He passes Lenny on the couch without sparing him a second glance. Well, he tries, anyway — as he passes by again with Ivy in his arms, Lenny drags himself up into an almost-sitting position.

“I’ve got her,” Feid says.

“Aren’t you on the phone?” Lenny croaks.

“Yes,” Feid says, and closes his door behind him before Lenny can say anything else.

Manu looks up at the camera again, and her face softens when she sees Ivy. “Oh my God.”

“Say hi, reina,” Feid says. Ivy stares at the computer screen with wide eyes. “That’s your Tía Manuela,” Feid adds, but he regrets it as soon as it’s out of his mouth.

“Tía?”

He knew she’d take it the wrong way. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m Tío Salo, so that makes you Tía Manu, right?” He pauses, glances down at Ivy. “Or I’m Tío Feid. Maybe Ferxxo, if she can say it. We haven’t really figured that out yet.”

“You’ve talked about _that_ , but not about when you’re getting your apartment back?”

Ivy reaches for the screen, and Feid catches her hand. Her fingers are so small in his. He’ll probably never stop being amazed by her miniature perfection. Just the thought of her leaving makes him feel like his lungs are full of water.

His sister is saying something else, and Lenny is coughing again, but Feid isn’t listening to either of them. Thinking about Ivy leaving is like drowning, so he tries something else — what if Lenny left, but Ivy stayed?

No change. Water in his lungs, creeping into his throat. If he thinks too long, it’ll reach his eyes and he’ll cry, and he doesn’t want to explain to Manu why he’s crying. He swallows it down.

Can’t think about either of them leaving, then. Good to know.

“Salo,” Manu says, and Feid gets the feeling that it’s not the first time she’s said it.

“Yes.”

“You weren’t listening.”

“No.”

“Mom and Dad want to know when you’re coming home next. You should call them.”

Right. He’s missed his last three weekly calls with his parents, either from taking care Ivy or from trying to squeeze in a few more minutes of work around her schedule. “I’ve been meaning to. I’ve been…. Busy.”

“I know. But we want to see you,” Manu says.

Feid thinks of himself leaving. Just for a week or so. Maybe five days. Lenny could handle his own daughter for a little while, especially once this bug passes. Feid could take a vacation.

His chest tightens, and he coughs. To Manu, he says, “I don’t know.”

Just then, a movement near the doorway catches his eye. He turns, and Manu looks too, as if she could see past him through the webcam. The door is slightly ajar. Feid expects to see Lenny there, though he usually knocks — but there’s no one. He must not have closed it properly. Changes in air pressure again.

But then Ivy shrieks, and Manu is laughing, and when Feid turns back around, he’s face-to-furry-face with Lenny’s cat.

“No!” Feid cries. Ivy matches his tone.

“I thought he wasn’t allowed in your room,” Manu says.

“He’s not,” Feid says. He moves to push Faaron out of the way, off his desk, but Ivy is babbling and grabbing at the cat’s fur, beaming with joy. Feid can’t bring himself to stop her. If the cat wants to move out of her reach, he can leave on his own.

Feid tries not to analyze that thought too much.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to talk about work?” he asks his sister.

Past the cat, he can see Manu still fighting laughter. “With a baby and a cat on your lap?”

“Sure,” Feid says, “why not? Apparently this is my life now.”

And he tries not to analyze that too much, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter four title from [una en un millón](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eZiDkpWmAas).


	5. sigo aquí en tu lista de espera [abr 2023]

“Is she asleep?”

“I think so.” Lenny collapses into the chair opposite Feid. His hair flops into his eyes, and he pushes it back. “How is it so easy when you do it?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you put her down for a nap, it takes like ten minutes. I rock her for half an hour and she barely falls asleep.”

Feid glances at his watch. “Half an hour?”

“Maybe forty-five minutes.”

“Lenny, you were in there for fifteen minutes.”

Lenny sits up. “Really?”

“Yeah. You’re better at this than you think.”

Feid turns back to his notebook, and Lenny leans back again. He rubs his eyes. Fifteen minutes? It’s not that he doesn’t love spending time with his daughter, but — it felt like so much longer. The first few weeks, he guesses, it really was that long. 

“You’re her father,” Feid says without looking up. “She loves you.”

Lenny snorts. “She’s five months old. She doesn’t know what ‘love’ is.”

“Sure she does. I’ve been reading —"

“Of course you have,” Lenny interrupts.

Feid ignores him and continues, “— and she may not know the _word_ ‘love,’ but she can feel it. Your love for her, and my love for her, and how you and I take care of each other.”

Feid’s right, but Lenny doesn’t want to admit it. Of course he loves Ivy; he’s learned to love her in the months she’s been with him. And maybe it’s something like love for his friend keeping him here, too, when his mother has asked so many times for him to move back home.

He’s not happy here. He hasn’t been really happy in a long time. Right now, though, the ocean air brushing his face, Ivy inside sleeping peacefully, Feid in front of him with his head still bent over his notebook but his pen not moving, he’s pretty damn close.

“Everyone thinks we’re a couple,” Lenny blurts.

Feid bites his lip. He looks up, but doesn’t make eye contact with Lenny. “Yeah.” And then he says, “We kind of are.”

“Are we?”

“We live together. We spend basically all our time together. We’re co-parenting a _baby_. How much more of a couple could we be?”

“I guess.” Lenny pauses, considers it for a second. “We don’t, like, sleep together.”

“We could,” Feid says.

There’s a pause. A long pause. Lenny wants to say something, but it’s like he’s forgotten every word he’s ever learned. No, not every word — without thinking, _yes_ is already on the tip of his tongue. But he can’t say _yes_. He doesn’t even _want_ to say yes. He can’t want to say yes.

Finally, Feid cracks a smile. “I’m kidding,” he says.

“Cabrón,” Lenny says, and it comes out more like a sigh than he intended. “I know. We’re as close to a couple as two straight guys can be, anyway.”

Maybe it’s Lenny’s imagination, or maybe Feid’s smile falters a little when he says, “Yeah.”

Lenny opens his mouth to say something else, but something catches his attention. If asked later, he wouldn’t be able to say what he heard. Whatever it is, he’s already halfway up out of his seat when Ivy’s crying starts for real.

“How —" Feid starts, but Lenny doesn’t hear the rest of it.

He freezes with his hand on the door to his and Ivy’s room. He turns back to Feid, who has stopped too, one foot on the balcony and one foot in the living room. “I’m supposed to let her cry, aren’t I?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“You’ve been reading.” He swallows. “I don’t at night, obviously, since I don’t want her to wake you up. But during a nap…” _She doesn’t usually cry so soon after I put her down_ , he thinks, but can’t say. _That must mean there’s something wrong._

Feid just shrugs. “Up to you.”

Lenny’s been reading, too, though he wouldn’t say it out loud — but between his daughter’s wails and the _we could_ still bouncing around in his head, he can’t remember anything. He glances down at his own hand, still gripping the doorknob.

She’s probably fine. She’s a baby; babies cry at unpredictable times. She’s been crying nonstop for three months. It’s what she does.

 _But something could be wrong_ , whispers a voice in the back of Lenny’s head.

“It’s okay,” Feid says, almost drowning out the voice. “Either way, I mean. It’s okay. If you go in there. You’re not going to mess her up.”

Lenny hesitates for one second more, then turns the knob.

As soon as he picks her up, Ivy quiets. She sniffles into his shoulder while he rocks her. She’s okay, of course she’s okay, but Lenny feels better with her in his arms. Even the _we could_ echo is fading. That’s not important right now. The only important thing is that Ivy is okay.

“I love you,” he murmurs into her tiny ear. She doesn’t respond, but he says it again anyway. “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter five title from [pretend](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ipBVXuEd3r8).


	6. eres mi primer pensamiento del día [may 2023]

Feid wakes up disoriented. There’s a weight on his chest, another on his shoulder, a third across his waist. He opens his eyes slowly — and of course it’s Ivy on his chest, snuggled against him and smiling in her sleep. Feid smiles, too.

And beside them: Lenny, asleep, not smiling but with his head on Feid’s shoulder and his arm thrown across Feid’s waist. Feid feels his face heat up, his lungs constrict. They both look so peaceful.

He watches Lenny’s face. Any second now, he’s going to wake up and pull back and probably take Ivy, too, but for now they’re perfect. Almost like a family. Ivy and Lenny and Feid. Or at least Ivy and Lenny, Feid supporting them both.

Nothing like this would never happen if it were just Lenny here. But he hasn’t been just Lenny in years, Feid realizes. He was “Natasha and Lenny,” and then that ended and in quick succession he was “Luisa and Lenny,” “Isabel and Lenny,” “Dalex and Lenny” — though Feid isn’t sure if that last one is true, and he shouldn’t know about it if it is.

Then _she_ came along, Ivy’s mother, who never really liked Feid, who refused to make eye contact with either of them when they went to pick up the rest of Ivy’s stuff, and who hasn’t spoken to Lenny since.

And now Ivy and Lenny. And Feid.

It’s almost poetic. If Ivy and Lenny weren’t pinning him to the couch, he could make a note, turn it into something good. He’s written more in the past few months than he had in a year before they moved in. With Ivy, every feeling is new.

 _With Lenny, too_ , he thinks, then shakes off the thought. He’s not feeling anything _new_ for Lenny. They’re closer friends, of course, but…

But like it has a mind of its own, Feid’s hand reaches up and brushes Lenny’s hair back off his forehead.

Lenny stirs, shifting closer to Feid, his arm tightening around Feid’s waist. Feid’s breath catches. Ivy stirs, too, but — thank God — she doesn’t wake. Feid rubs slow circles on her back, then touches Lenny’s face again. He can’t help it.

This time, Lenny blinks awake. He does pull back, but not as far as Feid feared. And his arm is still around Feid’s waist.

“I’m sorry,” Lenny says softly.

“Don’t be sorry,” Feid replies, equally softly.

“If I move, I’ll wake her up.”

“Then don’t move.”

Lenny lowers his head back onto Feid’s shoulder. “This isn’t weird?”

“No.”

It’s a lie, but maybe not one hundred percent a lie. This _is_ weird, but it’s nice, too. The closeness.

“Feid,” Lenny says, and Feid says, “Lenny.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

Lenny lifts his head, but Ivy squirms with the movement, so he lowers it again. “What do you mean, for what? For everything, cabrón. I’m living in your house. You’re basically raising my kid.” Lenny swallows. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

The words come out before Feid can second-guess them. “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t love you.”

They say _I love you_ plenty already, and if this time sounds different, Lenny doesn’t hear it. “I love you, too,” he says. His doesn’t sound different, either.

Feid almost lets it go. This should be enough, the semi-intentional closeness and the casual I-love-yous, but it’s not. Now that the thought is in his head, he has to get it out. That Ivy hasn’t woken up yet from the pounding of Feid’s heart is a miracle. “No,” he says.

“No?”

“No. I mean, I —" The hand that isn’t holding Ivy searches for Lenny’s. They’re close, but they could be closer. Feid wants to be closer. Beside Feid’s hip, Lenny flexes his fingers.

But those small movements are too much. Ivy blinks once, twice — then bursts into tears. Lenny pulls back fully, and just as Feid expected, takes his crying daughter from Feid’s arms.

As he cradles and rocks Ivy, Lenny looks at Feid. “You what?”

“Never mind,” Feid says, but he thinks, _please fight me. Please don’t let this go._

“Okay,” Lenny says.

He doesn’t have to say _let’s pretend this never happened._ Feid hears it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter six title from [ si supieras](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=av2yfDokA6k).


	7. así mismo te amaré a ti [jun 2023]

The second Ivy leaves Lenny’s hands, he realizes that no one other than Feid, her doctor, and him has held her since her mother handed her off almost six months earlier. Does Justin even know how how to hold a baby?

“Don’t let her put your chain in her mouth,” Jen says. Lenny has only met her a few times now, but he already likes her more than Justin’s last girlfriend. At least she seems to be paying attention.

“I know,” Justin says.

He’s actually doing okay, but Lenny can’t take his eyes off Ivy. He feels ready to dive in like a goalkeeper at the slightest sign of something wrong. From the corner of his eye, he can see Feid and Jen hovering over Justin, equally nervous.

Justin looks up at each of them. “I know how to handle a baby,” he says.

“Of course, honey,” Jen says, but she reaches out and adjusts his hand as she says it. Lenny and Feid share a glance.

“Have you spent a lot of time around kids, Jen?” Feid asks.

“I have little nephews,” she replies.

“So do I,” Justin adds, “in case you all forgot. I know how to hold a baby.”

Jen ignores him, turning back to Feid. “She really is beautiful. She’s getting so big. How long have you two been together?”

“Um,” Feid says.

“We’re not,” Lenny says.

“You’re… not?”

“They’re not,” Justin answers for them. Lenny may have imagined it, but he’s pretty sure Justin rolled his eyes. 

“Oh,” Jen says.

“We’re roommates,” Lenny says, as if this is his apartment just as much as it is Feid’s. He knows Feid won’t argue. “Ivy is mine.”

“They’re roommates,” Justin repeats. If he didn’t have a baby on his hands, he would’ve surrounded it with air quotes. This time it’s Jen’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Hey, fuck you,” Lenny says.

Justin gasps, fake-offended. “In front of your child, Tavárez!”

“Yeah, like she can understand me,” Lenny shoots back.

“World’s best dad,” Justin grins.

Jen, bless her, steps in before they can go any further. Lenny missed Justin, but he’s too tired for his banter right now. “Can I hold her?”

“Yes,” Lenny says, at the same time Justin says, “No.”

“No?” Lenny echoes.

“I think she likes me,” Justin says.

At that exact moment — with timing so perfect, Lenny couldn’t have planned it better if he tried — Ivy begins to cry. Justin’s eyes widen, and Jen hides her laughter behind her hand.

Justin moves to pass Ivy back to Lenny, but Lenny shakes his head. “She likes you,” he says, “and you know how to handle babies.”

Justin turns to Feid instead. “I need to get going, actually,” Feid says. He kisses Ivy on the top of her head, stopping her crying almost instantly, then kisses Jen on the cheek. “Thanks again.”

“What, nothing for me?” Justin teases.

“I’m not kissing you,” Feid says. “Either of you,” he adds, glancing at Lenny. “Sorry.”

Justin snorts. “See what I mean, Jen?”

“Go, nene, you don’t want to be late,” Jen says to Feid. “We can handle things here.”

And then Feid is gone, and Justin and Jen are looking at Lenny. Ivy, busy again with the chain around Justin’s neck, doesn’t even seem to notice that Feid left. Lenny wonders whether she’ll cry when he leaves, too.

As if reading his mind, Jen says, “It’s okay. I’m sure the first time is hard. But we’ll take care of her.”

“It’s just a couple of hours,” Lenny says. Even he isn’t sure if he’s addressing Jen or himself. He’s already given them all the instructions for an afternoon with Ivy, but he’s sure he’s forgetting something. Food, naps, toys, diapers. There has to be something else.

“We’re fine,” Justin says. Ivy sticks her hand in his mouth.

Lenny stands and surveys the apartment one more time. “You probably won’t even see Faaron,” he says, desperate to say _something_ , “but if you do, don’t fall for his lies. He’s already been fed.”

“We have a cat, too, Lenny,” Justin reminds him. “We can handle this. Get out of here.”

“Okay, okay. Thank you.”

Lenny tries not to think about Ivy crying as he walks down the almost-silent hallway. It’s good to know that the apartment is nearly soundproof, at least. He’s not sure how he’ll manage to make it through a whole interview knowing that she’s so far away — and not knowing when or if she stops crying for him.

In the elevator, he closes his eyes and leans his head back against the mirrored wall. He doesn’t even bother taking a selfie, even though the lighting is perfect. He focuses instead on the soft music and the gentle drop in his stomach that never feels quite natural. Just a couple of hours. Breathe.

Then the elevator doors open, and when Lenny opens his eyes, Feid is standing there in the building’s lobby, twirling his car keys around his finger and tossing them up every few rounds. He lights up when he sees Lenny, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I thought you had to get going,” Lenny says.

“I was waiting for you,” Feid says. “Need a ride?”

“Did you finally get around to renewing your license?”

Feid hums. “Well, technically no. But you’re not going far, are you?”

“If you get arrested, can Ivy and I stay in the apartment?”

“Of course.”

Lenny pretends to consider it for a moment. “Fine.” Feid’s grin grows wider, and he tosses his keys again. Lenny snatches them out of the air. “But I’ll drive.”

The air in the car is hot and thick, and even if Lenny wanted to talk, he would’ve had to yell over the air conditioner’s fan. He can just barely hear the radio, and he strains to catch the lyrics. He doesn’t want to think about Ivy with Justin, about Feid waiting for him, about Feid’s smile when Lenny stepped out of the elevator. 

“She’ll be fine,” Feid says, misjudging Lenny’s silence.

Lenny just nods. Of course she’ll be fine. He’ll make it through these interviews, Feid will do whatever the hell Feid does when he leaves the apartment, Justin and Jen will take care of Ivy, and everything will be fine. Just a few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter seven title from [crecia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysxfhUG5_VA).


	8. solito pa’ mi, no te comparto con nadie [jul 2023]

It’s three AM, Feid hasn’t slept, and he’s given up on calling Lenny. He’s been considering calling the police for the past half-hour, but he knows what they’ll say. Lenny’s probably fine. He hasn’t even been gone twelve hours.

But Feid can’t just sit around doing nothing. Distractions aren’t working; he can’t stop picturing every possible worst-case scenario, from car accidents to muggings to alien abductions. He _knows_ Lenny wouldn’t just abandon Ivy like this. Would he?

He might. And none of their friends are answering their phones. Probably because it’s three AM.

Just as Feid is about to dial Lenny one more time — just one more time, then he’ll try to sleep — the door swings open and Lenny stumbles inside. He’s laughing at something on his phone, and his hair is a mess. He leans against the doorframe for balance.

“What the fuck?” Feid blurts.

Lenny looks up, surprised but still smiling. “Oh, you’re awake.”

“Of course I’m awake,” Feid says. He has to fight to keep his voice low. “Where the hell were you?”

“I told you. Went out with Swifft and them. It’s his, uh, his girlfriend’s birthday. Something like that.”

“Yeah, I remember. But you also said you’d be back by midnight.”

Lenny squints at his phone, then his watch. “What time is it?”

“Past three.”

“Is Ivy asleep?” Lenny reaches down to take his shoes off, but he sways dangerously and has to brace himself against the table. 

Feid, unamused, makes no move to help him. “Didn’t you hear me say it’s past three? Keep your voice down.”

“Damn. I guess I…” Lenny laughs a little to himself and glances at his phone again. “...lost track of time. Sorry.”

Feid has heard plenty of insincere apologies in his life, from Lenny and others, but something about this one rings particularly wrong. There’s something in Lenny’s face that Feid doesn’t like.

And then he realizes. When he speaks, his voice is so dead-serious, he nearly surprises himself. “Lenny. Who were you with?”

“Didn’t I just answer that?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” Lenny comes all the way inside now. He falls onto the couch, as far away from Feid as possible but still way too close. Feid fights the urge to move; he was here first. “What does it matter, anyway?” Lenny continues. “You’re not my dad.”

“But you’re Ivy’s,” Feid says.

“What does she need me for, when she has you?”

The words hit Feid like a punch to the chest, but he shakes them off. “Don’t say that. You’re drunk.”

“So?”

“So, it’s not true. Don’t say it.”

“What’s that Latin, about wine and truth?”

“No, we’re not doing that either.” Feid sighs. “Lenny, listen. I thought you were better than this.”

Lenny looks up, and Feid regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth. He meant it, but the phrasing was wrong. He’s not thinking clearly.

“Better?” Lenny echoes.

Feid doesn’t know what else to say but “Yeah.”

Lenny sits up straighter. With each sentence, his voice gets louder, until he’s nearly shouting, forgetting or not caring about his daughter sleeping a few feet away. “I’m not better. I’m the same I always was. I’m still me, Salo, and I still want to go out and smoke and fuck. Ivy didn’t change me, and neither did you.”

They both freeze at the last line. Ivy makes a noise, then settles on her own.

Feid wants to ask what he means. Wants to ask why or how or when he would’ve changed Lenny. Needs to know what Lenny is thinking. Instead, very quietly, he asks again, “Who were you with?”

“Does it even matter?”

Lenny sounds utterly defeated, but Feid presses anyway. “To me, it does.”

“Why?”

“Do you even know her?”

“Who said it was a ‘her?’”

Again, freeze. Time seems to stretch. Feid can feel his heart in his fingertips and behind his eyes. That would be worse, somehow, if Lenny were with a guy. Because they’re both supposed to be straight; that’s why this works. That’s why they’re able to pretend like this arrangement is normal. Feid opens his mouth, then closes it.

“I wasn’t with anybody,” Lenny says.

“Okay,” Feid says.

“Really. I was — there was —" Lenny stops and takes a deep breath. He sinks down into the couch again. “I don’t know. Nobody… I didn’t want to. Okay? Maybe I am different, I don’t know. Fuck.”

Lenny lays his head back. His breathing slows, and for a second Feid thinks he’s fallen asleep. Feid is suddenly very tired himself. He almost gets up, almost leaves Lenny here. 

But then Lenny says, “I’m drunk, Salo.”

And Feid’s voice almost breaks when he replies, “I know.”

“I’m not a good father.”

“Yes, you are.”

Lenny doesn’t argue. He doesn’t look at Feid, either. “I love you,” he says.

Feid’s voice _will_ break if he says “I know” again, and he can’t say “I love you” back when Lenny is drunk. That’s not right, and the words won’t come, anyway. He’s still angry for the stress Lenny caused him tonight, still exhausted from waiting up worrying.

Feid says nothing. Lenny sighs.

“Go to bed, Lenny,” Feid says at last.

“I will,” Lenny replies.

“Okay. I’m going now.”

“Go, then.”

“Good night.”

Lenny says nothing.

Feid goes, but he doesn’t sleep. He lies on his side, alone in his bed that has never felt as big as it does now. He doesn’t even bother closing the blinds. He stares out into the night sky, too polluted by light to be starry, and tries not to think about Lenny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter eight title from [pa mi remix](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JwsgCnBLL4A).
> 
> ([bonus youtube content](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2rSc352NK5Q&t).)


	9. casa de niveles, casa de leones [jul 2023]

“Mom won’t stop asking me about you,” Michelle says.

Lenny blinks, surprised. “The fuck? Why? Why doesn’t she just call me herself?”

“She thinks you lie to her.”

“And she thinks you’re honest? You’re a lawyer. You lie for a living.”

“Fuck you,” Michelle says, but her voice is mild. “I don’t lie to Mom.”

“Neither do I.”

“So everything really is fine and perfect, then? Ivy always sleeps through the night, she never cries, you and Salo are just friends, and your last single went platinum in Spain?”

Lenny opens his mouth, then closes it. Ivy sleeps through the night, she never cries... “What was that last one?”

“You went platinum.”

“No, before that.”

“Salo. Your ‘roommate.’”

Lenny is getting very, very tired of air quotes. If this were anyone else, he’d skip straight to the outright denials, but from his sister he needs more context. “Mom said something about him?”

Michelle shakes her head. “Mom, no. You know how she is. But Gab and I —"

“Do you all have nothing better to do than talk about me?” Lenny interrupts.

He’s getting tired of eye-rolls, too, and he grits his teeth when Michelle says, “I thought becoming a parent would make you less self-centered, not more.”

Lenny vaguely remembers Feid calling him “better” — or maybe it was “not better” — not too long ago. He didn’t know what it meant then, and he doesn’t now. Either way, he swallows hard, trying not to betray any hint of emotion.

“Never mind. Salo and I are friends, okay, that’s it. He’s helping me with Ivy. We both work a lot, you know, and she’s —"

Michelle waves her hand. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before.”

“And you don’t believe me.”

“I’m just saying — and Gab agrees with me — if it were really just about getting ‘help’ with the baby, you’d come home. She could help, Mom and Dad could help.”

“But my career is —"

“— extremely mobile,” Michelle finishes for him, “as you used to be so fond of reminding us.”

Lenny sighs through his nose. “What is it that you want, exactly?”

“The truth. If you two are together, that’s fine. We’ll even help you keep it from Mom and Dad, if that’s what you want. But tell me, at least.”

“And you’ll tell Gab.”

“So there’s something to tell?” Michelle asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yes.” Lenny looks around furtively, though it’s way too hot for any of the neighbors to be out on their balconies now. Still, he speaks very quietly, just in case. “Salo and I…” He beckons Michelle closer to the camera. As soon as she leans in, he cups his free hand around his mouth and shouts, “ARE FRIENDS.”

Michelle jerks backward. From inside, Lenny hears movement. He doesn’t care.

“Tell Gab that, okay?” he continues. “We’re friends, he’s helping me, Ivy’s great and she mostly sleeps through the night. Okay?”

“Okay, okay,” Michelle says. She’s still rubbing her ear, but Lenny doesn’t feel any guilt. She shouldn’t have pressed.

“Any more questions?”

“When are you coming back to visit, at least?”

“I don’t know,” Lenny answers automatically.

“Okay,” Michelle says.

Lenny sighs again. “I really don’t. She’s too young to travel, and I can’t just leave her with him.” He pauses, reconsiders for a moment. “Well, I could, but —"

“I get it,” Michelle says. “She’s yours.”

“She’s mine,” Lenny echoes.

It’s getting easier to say. After half a year, it’s still not easy, but it’s getting easier.

“Michelle, I have to go. I’ll call Mom tomorrow. Okay?”

“Fine. Take care of yourself, will you? You’re no use to Ivy or anybody if you run yourself into the ground.”

“Yes, ma’am. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Lenny hangs up, but he doesn’t get up. He should go back inside, take Ivy back from Feid. She’s Lenny’s, and besides, it’s way too hot out here. But his muscles won’t obey his brain. He tilts his head back and lets the sun hit his face.

He can’t stop thinking about his sisters talking about him. And if they’re talking, who else might be talking? How many of their millions of fans are talking? It’s easy to shut down Dalex or Justin or Michelle with a few sharp words, but if the rest of the world thinks the same way…

There’s only one way to find out. Lenny pushes his hair back, then does something he hasn’t done in ages — something he hasn’t done since he promised himself and his manager that he’d quit.

He googles himself.

It’s not as bad as he expected. There’s a lot of coverage of his latest single, which isn’t quite platinum in Spain or anywhere else, but getting close. His own Twitter feed, his own Instagram, YouTube, Spotify, Wikipedia. He considers hitting Wikipedia, but decides against it.

Instead, he clicks on an article from a couple of weeks ago. He remembers the interview, but doesn’t think he ever bothered reading what they did with it, nor can he recall exactly what he said. The headline reads: “Lenny Tavárez Talks Songwriting, Fatherhood, and What’s Next.”

His heart leaps to his throat as soon as he sees the banner photo. It’s the first selfie he took with Ivy back in February. He’s holding her against his chest, her face hidden from the camera. She looks so tiny, Lenny so tired. But he can see the love in his own eyes, even back then, even when he wasn’t sure he wanted her.

He scrolls down to the actual text and skims through the intro. They mention Dyland & Lenny, The Avengers, a few of his old hits and his new ones. They don’t mention Feid except in the parenthetical along with Dalex, Justin, Sech, and Flow. Thank God.

They do talk songwriting and fatherhood, balancing work with childcare, writing and recording around Ivy’s schedule, and they still don’t mention Feid. “I’m not alone,” Lenny said in a quote. “I have plenty of help, my friends and my team here in Miami, even though my family is far away.” But he didn’t mention Feid by name.

 _He deserves more credit_ , whispers that tiny voice that never seems to leave Lenny alone. He shakes it off.

The article is peppered with photos from Lenny’s Instagram feed. They’re selfies, mostly, and a handful of shots from that one photo shoot from the beach near the apartment. Ivy’s face isn’t visible in any of them. _Private, not secret_ is Feid’s motto, and one Lenny is suddenly glad he follows. The longer he can keep his baby away from the world — and the world away from his baby — the better.

Lenny said “private, not secret” in that interview, too, but he didn’t mention Feid.

He gives up on reading the article; the photos are too distracting. In just a few pictures, he watches Ivy grow. Her tiny feet, her chubby arms, her dark hair growing longer. And even as she changes, the environment around her stays the same. Feid’s balcony, Feid’s couch, Feid’s hands and Lenny’s hands. 

Tears prick the corners of his eyes, but he refuses to let them fall. He should go home. Those should be his parents’ hands, and Michelle’s and Gab’s.

He looks away from his phone, first out over the water and then back into the apartment. Through sun’s reflected glare, he can see Feid and Ivy. Feid covers his face with a blanket, then pops back out with an exaggerated surprised face. Ivy’s feet kick as she laughs. He does it again, and she laughs just as wildly as if it were the first time. Repeat.

Lenny wishes he could still smoke. At least then he’d have a better excuse for his red eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter nine title from [787](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x25rVAhoOak).


	10. ahora me visita el karma [ago 2023]

Lenny is saying something, but Feid can’t hear him over Ivy’s wails. He pops one of his earbuds out, which doesn’t help much. Lenny angles Ivy away from his own webcam — not that that helps, either — and talks to her softly. Feid watches them from a thousand miles away.

Finally, Ivy quiets. She’s still sniffling, still restless on Lenny’s lap, but at least she’s not screaming anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Feid says.

“No, I get it,” Lenny says.

“I really couldn’t put it off any longer.”

“I know, I know. You keep saying that.” Lenny takes a deep breath. “Just — when are you back, again?”

“I’ve only been gone two days,” Feid says with a small laugh. 

Lenny looks pointedly at Ivy. She’s playing with his earring now, and whenever he pushes her hand away, she makes a noise that’s almost a “no” and reaches for it again. Feid sighs.

“Yeah, I see her. I know. It’s just a couple of weeks. You can handle her.”

“It’s easier when you’re here.”

“You’re her dad, Lenny.”

“So are you.”

Feid does a double-take, but Lenny’s still looking at him like he always does. Maybe Feid mishead. He puts the earbud back in. “What?”

“You heard me,” Lenny says, his face still serious. “You are. Just as much as I am, maybe more. I don’t think I would have made it seven months without you.”

Feid doesn’t know how to respond to that. Before Ivy, he was ambivalent on the idea of kids; his career has always come first, and he hasn’t had very many partners long-term or serious enough to bother discussing it. But he loves Ivy more than he thought possible. Even when she’s crying or pulling his hair or doing unspeakable things to a diaper, he’d bring her the moon if she asked for it. If this is parenting…

“I have to tell you something,” Lenny says.

“Tell me.”

Lenny looks away from the camera. “I should have told you before you left. Or… I should wait until you come back. Never mind.” He shifts Ivy’s weight to his other arm, and she protests.

“No,” Feid says. They’re not doing this again. “Not ‘never mind.’ What is it?”

He knows what he wants to hear. He’s ready to hear it, ready to say it back. Ready to hop on the next flight home, tour be damned, if it comes to that. Things have been different lately — at least, Feid thinks so. Maybe it’s finally time.

 _Please_ , Feid thinks, praying that Lenny can read his mind.

But then Lenny says, “I’m thinking of moving back home.”

“I —" Feid starts, and then the words register. He sits back in his chair, speechless. He shakes his head slowly, then stops. “Home?”

“Yeah, I — since Ivy… showed up, my mom has been asking me to come back. She and my dad, my sisters, they can… we can get out of your hair, finally.” Lenny pauses. He looks at Ivy, looks at the ceiling, looks everywhere but at Feid. “You didn’t sign up for this. We’ve overstayed our welcome. We —"

“Lenny!” Feid cries.

Lenny, surprised, looks at the camera. “What?”

“Please don’t leave.”

“...What?”

“I —"

Feid’s voice catches. This conversation is going differently than he expected, and he realizes that he has no idea what to say next. He can’t say — can’t say what he was ready to say now, not over the phone and not after _that_. It’s not right.

None of this is right. He shakes his head again. He looks at the ceiling, too, and when he turns back to the screen, Lenny’s brow is furrowed.

“Are you okay?” Lenny asks.

“Can we talk about this when I get back?”

“Sure, but I —"

Feid puts up a hand to stop him. “Just… don’t leave. Okay? Please.”

He hears the old song as he says it, but Lenny knows better than to mention it. 

“Okay,” Lenny says, “okay. I won’t leave.”

Lenny pushes his hair back, and Feid matches the movement. Feid’s chest feels lighter, suddenly, even though they’re not even close to what he wanted to hear. He should get Lenny’s last line in writing, signed and notarized, but he trusts him. He loves him.

“I just… I don’t want to have this conversation on the phone.”

“I get it,” Lenny says again.

“We could —"

“Where are you tonight?”

Feid laughs, and it comes out half-sigh. It’s not the most graceful of subject-changes, but he’ll take it. He can’t think about this anymore. “Houston tonight, Dallas tomorrow. I think.”

Lenny asks a meaningless question, and Feid gives a meaningless answer, and they piece together a meaningless conversation. They talk tour stops and airports and where to eat. They pretend like this is normal.

And when Feid’s manager calls to say he needs to get going, he’s not sure whether he should be disappointed or relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter ten title from [porfa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hp__tcvnEnk). (and also [the remix](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTpswDtnBBI).)


	11. you know she running things [ago 2023]

Ivy has been crawling — well, more like scooting — for a couple of months already, so Lenny is used to keeping at least one hand and one eye on her whenever she’s not in her crib or playpen. But even if he gets distracted and she manages to slip out from under him, the apartment is childproofed; it’s not like she can _do_ much yet.

So when Lenny hears a high-pitched shriek from somewhere in the apartment, he nearly drops his phone. Out of habit, he reaches out, but Ivy isn’t on the floor between him and her toys. In fact, she isn’t in their room at all.

“Ivy?” he calls, and gets another shriek in answer.

Lenny stands up from the floor as quickly as he can and half-runs into the living room. He doesn’t know what he expects to see. The shrieks sounded more frustrated than panicked, so he’s not _too_ worried, but… Ivy is not in the living room. Not in the kitchen, not in the bathroom. The intermittent shrieks have turned into steady crying, but at least the sound means she hasn’t somehow fallen off the balcony.

Feid’s room. The last place Lenny wants to go, but the last place left to look. The door is partially open, and from the noise, Ivy is inside. Lenny pushes the door the rest of the way open and — for the first time, he realizes suddenly — enters.

Lenny sees three things at the exact same time.

First, unlike the rest of the apartment, Feid’s bedroom is a _disaster_. It looks like Lenny’s did, pre-Ivy — clothes on the floor, shoe boxes stacked precariously in a corner, notes and blank paper strewn everywhere.

Second, the cat is on Feid’s bed. Emphatically not allowed, the only condition of Faaron moving in along with Ivy and Lenny. He’s curled up, almost peaceful but with one eye open.

Third, Ivy. Ivy, standing up. Clinging to the edge of the mattress and sobbing, but standing up. For the first time.

Lenny freezes. He reaches for his phone to take a picture, but he must have left it in the other room. Even with Ivy still crying, his brain is stuck on just one thought: she’s standing up on her own, and Feid isn’t here to see it.

“Ivy,” Lenny says. She keeps crying. She’s reaching for the cat, her tiny hand clenching and unclenching, but he’s just out of her grasp. Faaron is unfazed.

“Ivy,” Lenny says again.

This time, she looks up at him. The movement almost makes her lose her balance, and she grabs the bed with the hand that had been outstretched. She cries harder and bounces her knees like she’s trying to jump.

Finally, Lenny realizes what’s happening: she pulled herself to standing, but she can’t figure out how to get back down. And he’s just been standing there, watching.

In two steps, he’s beside her, scooping her up into his arms. “It’s okay, reina,” he says softly. Feid’s nickname for her slips out, and Lenny hardly notices. “It’s okay, we’ll work on it.” He carries her back to their room, leaving the cat, even though Ivy is twisting and wiggling to be put down.

Is he supposed to teach her how to stand up and sit down? It seems like the kind of thing she should figure out on her own, but maybe he’s supposed to be practicing with her. He sets her down on the floor, then takes her hands and pulls her up, but she doesn’t seem too interested. He lowers her back down.

Feid would know.

But Feid isn’t her father, despite what Lenny said on the phone; Lenny is. Lenny should know. He watches her play with her stuffed flamingo toy while he thinks. He’ll look it up later, after she’s gone to bed. When it’s safe to take his eyes off her for more than a second.

Now he’s thinking of Feid, though, and how quiet the apartment seems without him here. It will be quiet like this all the time if Lenny gets his own place with Ivy. No other adult sounds, just Ivy’s babbling and his own thoughts. The thought of moving back in with his parents makes him want to tear his hair out, but maybe living alone would be worse.

He finds his phone and puts some music on just for the distraction, but the first song to come up on shuffle is Feid’s. He turns the music off.

Lenny can’t get the image of Ivy standing there next to Feid’s bed out of his head. This is the first _first_ that Feid has missed — they were together for the first time she rolled over, the first time she sat up, the first time she made a sound that was almost a syllable. All her firsts are firsts for them, too. Lenny can still see the joy on Feid’s face from the first time she reached for him.

They have to go back to Puerto Rico. They _have to_. Or, at minimum, move out of Feid’s apartment here in Miami. Lenny is a grown adult, a parent, and not one hurting for money; he doesn’t need a roommate. If her mother didn’t want to see them, Ivy’s firsts should be Lenny’s alone.

But maybe he doesn’t want to be alone.

He puts the music back on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter eleven title from [llego la queen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_g8p_-dPTU).


	12. no sé si fue la distancia [ago 2023]

With Ivy finally asleep, Feid collapses onto the couch beside Lenny. He lands a little closer than he intended, but he doesn’t apologize and doesn’t move. Lenny doesn’t move, either. Feid lays his head back and stares at the ceiling.

“God, I missed her,” he sighs.

“She missed you, too,” Lenny says.

“And you?”

“Why would she miss me? I didn’t leave.”

Feid elbows Lenny. “You know what I mean.”

Lenny still doesn’t move away. He elbows Feid back, grinning. “If you want me to say I missed you, I’m not going to.”

“And why not?”

“You’re not supposed to ask for it,” Lenny says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It means more if you just let me say it naturally.”

Feid weighs his options. He’s not sure what’s happening here, honestly, but he knows there’s _something_ happening. Whatever this is, he needs to play it carefully. “You could just say you didn’t miss me,” he says.

As soon as it’s out of his mouth, he knows it was the wrong move.

“How was the tour?” Lenny asks.

“It was good. Great, actually. I missed being on the road. Remember that summer when we weren’t allowed to do anything?”

Feid remembers, even if Lenny doesn’t. They couldn’t see each other, but they talked almost every day, even though Lenny’s girlfriend was right there and they were both working nonstop. Feid learned to fake cheer that summer, at least until the restrictions eased and they could talk face-to-face again.

“Living with me and my daughter is like being quarantined during a global pandemic,” Lenny says, “got it.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Feid says.

“I know,” Lenny says.

“It was good, though. I needed it. And you both survived without me.”

“Barely,” Lenny says gravely. “It was touch-and-go for a few days in the middle.”

Feid laughs. “I’m sure.” He looks around the room, at the TV with the volume on too low to hear, at all the little things that makes this space his. It was nice to be away, but it’s nicer to be back. “I’m glad I’m home.”

He didn’t mean it as bait, but maybe it came out that way. Either way, Lenny doesn’t take it. He doesn’t say anything. Feid can feel him staring, but he refuses to make eye contact.

He tries again. “You’re not really moving back to Puerto Rico, are you?”

“I don’t know. Should I?”

 _That’s_ bait. Or Feid thinks it is, at least. He takes it, too hungry to care about the hook. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you to leave.”

“You don’t want Ivy to leave.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Feid repeats. Then he adds, “Either of you.”

“Salo, look at me.”

Feid looks at Lenny and realizes for the first time exactly how close they are. Closer than they’ve ever been, maybe. Touching, but not quite touching. Feid should say something, but nothing comes out.

And then Lenny says, “I missed you, cabrón.”

For a second, Feid forgets every word in every language he’s ever learned. The statement is so simple, so normal, but it’s filling his lungs and his veins, and all he can do is echo it. “I missed you, too.”

And then suddenly, somehow, with no idea who leaned in first, their lips meet. The kiss is hungry, messy, achingly deep. Is this the hook? Feid’s hand is on Lenny’s perfect jaw, Lenny’s hand on Feid’s leg. Feid can still taste the cheap wine — and he won’t phrase that differently, even in the safety of his own head — that he paid way too much for on the plane. Lenny’s tongue is whiskey.

Feid pulls back. He doesn’t feel drunk, even buzzed, but… “I’m supposed to say we can’t do this, right?”

“I think so,” Lenny says.

“I don’t want to,” Feid says.

“I don’t want you to.”

“We should’ve done this a lot earlier, actually.”

Lenny almost laughs. “Yeah.”

This time there’s no question; Lenny pulls Feid in for another kiss. It’s just as hungry as the first. Feid opens his eyes; Lenny’s are still closed. It’s a new angle, but he’s not seeing anything new — Lenny, just Lenny, no “and.” Famously beautiful, not perfect but perfect. 

Or maybe there is an “and.” Maybe. If this is more than a kiss.

They part again. Feid’s hand finds Lenny’s, and Lenny doesn’t pull away. They lace their fingers together. If Feid looks at Lenny’s face again, he’ll kiss him again, so he focuses on their hands instead.

“We could…” he starts, but trails off. He doesn’t know how to finish it.

“Are you joking this time?” Lenny asks.

“What —" And then Feid remembers, sitting out on the balcony with Lenny months ago when he almost — almost something, confessed maybe, or at least tested the water. It was too cold then. “No. I’m not joking.”

Lenny takes a deep breath. “Fuck.” He pushes his hair back with his free hand. “It’s too late to say we should take this slow, isn’t it?”

“How so?”

“Well. We have a kid.”

They both laugh. They relax. They soften against each other, just a little bit.

“But…” Feid prompts.

“But,” Lenny says.

“Okay,” Feid says.

He kisses Lenny again, more gently this time. He wants to say _I love you_. They’ve said it so many times before, but it will feel heavier now if it comes out. He allows himself to enjoy the kiss instead, the kiss and Lenny’s hand on his thigh.

When Lenny speaks again, he doesn’t move away. His lips brush Feid’s with each consonant. “I don’t want to wake her up.”

“Stay with me, then,” Feid replies. He pulls Lenny closer. “Stay with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter twelve title from [no se si fue](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJLjK8_nD9Q) and [ignorantes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PC0GvyEIXfk).
> 
> chapters one & two of [yo la radio y tú mi hit mundial](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25973965/chapters/63143083#workskin) go here.


	13. no hables de amor, acabado el feeling [ago 2023]

Lenny wakes up disoriented. There’s too much space on the other side of the bed, and Ivy’s crib isn’t in his line of sight. For a brief, terrifying moment, he has no idea where he is — or, worse, where she is.

But then he breathes in deeply, and the memories from last night filter in with the scent of the sheets. When he releases the breath, it comes out shaky.

They didn’t fuck. They didn’t even _make love_. It may be too late to go slow, but they can try. They slept with their limbs tangled, and it was the best Lenny has slept in years.

Now, he gets out of bed slowly. Feid’s room is still a mess, but Lenny manages to find a pair of shorts that he’s pretty sure are his. Maybe it doesn’t matter now, but he still feels a little better pulling them on before going out into the living room.

Feid is already in the kitchen, feeding Ivy. Lenny hopes his smile isn’t as awkward as it feels — he’s self-conscious all of a sudden, like a teenager with a crush. Last night feels like a dream. Whatever they’re doing now, it feels delicate. If he says something wrong, it might shatter, and they’ll just be roommates again. Just friends.

But when Feid says “good morning,” it sounds normal.

“Morning,” Lenny says back.

“Do you want…?” Feid offers him Ivy’s bottle, and she grabs it back. Lenny’s awkward smile softens into a real one.

“No, go ahead. She’s — it’s fine.” He rubs his eyes.

Feid nods and gives Ivy the bottle again. He looks so comfortable with her, and she with him. Lenny watches them for a moment. He still doesn’t know what to do, but this is the first night he’s spent away from Ivy, so he goes to her even though he said it was fine. He kisses the top of her head.

And that puts him so close to Feid. Too close and not close enough.

“Good morning,” Feid says again, more softly.

 _Fuck it_ , Lenny thinks. He kisses Feid hard. He feels Feid’s lips form a smile against his own, which makes him smile, too. Not as delicate as he thought, then. This is right.

Ivy protests, and Feid and Lenny part. 

“So it was real,” Feid says.

“Yeah,” Lenny says, but he thinks, _was_? He steps back from Feid and Ivy.

“I —" Feid scratches his cheek, adjusts Ivy’s bottle. “Where do we go from here?”

“I was going to ask you the same.”

“I don’t know.”

“Me neither.”

Ivy pushes her bottle away and reaches for Lenny, and he takes her. She babbles away as he cleans her up, and he nods along as if he understands what she’s saying. He wonders if she can feel the difference in the air now. The different flavor of tension.

“I don’t want to tell anybody,” Lenny says suddenly.

“Tell anybody what?”

Right. Feid still can’t read his mind.

“About us. That we’re… whatever, now. Not yet.”

Feid doesn’t ask _what are we, anyway_ , even though Lenny is sure he’s thinking it. Lenny is thinking it. Feid just says, “Okay.”

Lenny expected him to argue. Girlfriends always argued. But, he guesses, it’s a little different when the wrench isn’t “fame.” It’s… everything else. It’s _them_. He nods. “Okay.”

“I think everybody thinks we are, anyway,” Feid says. “A couple. Or whatever.”

Lenny snorts. “Yeah. That’s fine.” He hesitates. “Isn’t it?”

“I guess.” Feid hums, looks up at the ceiling. Then he shrugs and looks back at Lenny. “We don’t have to say anything. We can just take it a day at a time, right? See what happens.”

See what happens. Okay. Now that he’s allowed to think it, now that they’ve kissed and will probably continue kissing, now that Feid is looking at him with those big heavy-lidded eyes, what Lenny wants to happen is that they go back to bed and finish what they started last night.

But of course they can’t do that right now. They can’t leave Ivy alone. And they’re taking it slow.

Lenny wants to say _I love you_ , but instead he says, “Have you eaten?”

“All I had to do to get you to start cooking for me was kiss you?” Feid laughs.

“You’re the one who said we should’ve done it earlier.”

Feid doesn’t seem to have a response for that. He stands and closes the gap between himself and Lenny. Even with Ivy propped against Lenny’s hip, they kiss like they’re making up for lost time. And, well, Lenny supposes they are.

Feid hums like he wants to say something, but when Lenny raises his eyebrows, Feid just shakes his head. “What?” Lenny asks.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“No, it doesn’t matter,” Feid says. Lenny starts to argue, but Feid puts a hand on his chest to stop him. “Okay. It’s just, we’re taking it slow.”

“Right,” Lenny says cautiously.

“Supposed to be, anyway. Taking it slow. So I don’t know if… The words, I —"

“Feid,” Lenny interrupts. “Shut the fuck up.” Feid’s eyes widen, and Lenny uses his free hand to pull Feid closer. “I love you, cabrón, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yeah,” Feid says, his surprise slowly turning into a grin, “yeah, it is. I love you.”

If every day is going to go like this, touching and kissing and feeling so light, Lenny is fine taking them one at a time. For once, he doesn’t care what anybody else says or thinks about them. Maybe they already know, maybe they don’t, but this moment is just his and Feid’s.

And Ivy’s, too. When Lenny looks down, she has one hand on his arm, the other clinging to Feid’s shirt sleeve. Even if they wanted to run out and tell the world — and part of Lenny does want that, badly — they can’t right now. They’ll stay here as long as she needs them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter thirteen title from [me pregunta](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_-0Cjm-ufI).


	14. sube fotos conmigo [nov 2023]

“Thank you again for hosting,” Lenny says, kissing Patricia’s cheek. “You’re an angel.”

Patricia scoffs and shoos him away. “Stop, stop. It’s no problem. Here, make yourself useful — take these outside.” She hands him a pair of folding chairs. He takes a third, probably just to show off, and pushes the door open with his shoulder.

Feid watches him go. He can’t take his eyes off of him. He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of him for three months; he still can’t believe that Lenny is _his_.

Lenny catches him staring and shoots him a small smile. Feid smiles back.

“Earth to Salo. Hello?”

Feid blinks and turns to Dalex. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You were saying something.”

“Did you forget where you were going?” Dalex asks.

“Yes,” Feid answers automatically. Then he glances down at the tray of food in his hands. “No. To the kitchen.”

“Right,” Dalex says. “The house isn’t that big, man.”

“It’s big.”

“Well…”

Dalex gestures to the living room, where Yarelys and Janlex are standing guard over the babies’ playpen. Both teens are staring at their phones, occasionally sparing a glance for Ivy and the twins. Through the window, Feid can see Yza and Max playing a spirited game of tag with Zara toddling along after them. The dog weaves in and out among them. The Daleccio-Corcino clan make up a solid half of the guest list for this party — the big house isn’t just another flight of Dalex’s fancy.

“Okay, okay, fine. When’s everyone else supposed to get here?”

Dalex glances at his watch which, judging by the glint of diamonds around its face, _was_ a flight of his fancy. “Another half-hour or so.” He squints at Feid “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“It’s a first birthday party. It’s not an award show. You’re fine.”

“I know,” Feid says with a small laugh.

“Okay.” 

Feid continues on to the kitchen and sets the tray down on the counter. Patricia, hands full with another pair of chairs, nods toward the back door. “Oh, perfect timing. Will you open that?”

“Let me take those,” Feid insists.

“I can —"

But Feid is already taking them from her, pushing open the door, and following Lenny out. He almost trips over Zara, but manages to sidestep her at the last second; she doesn’t even seem to notice. He sets the chairs up with the others, then spots Lenny leaning against the side of the house — hiding, it looks like.

“You okay?” Feid asks.

Lenny doesn’t look at him. “Yeah.”

Feid wants badly to take his hand, but Dalex or Patricia or one of the older kids could walk out at any second. He steps a little closer instead. Lenny pushes his hair back and sighs. “I can’t believe we’ve been doing this for a year.”

“Almost.”

“Almost a year.” He laughs, a little shaky.

“You’ve done a great job.”

“We’ve done a great job. Or… a good job, at least. A job.”

They both laugh. Both relax, just a little.

“Our sisters are going to be pissed,” Lenny says.

“I know,” Feid says.

“We should’ve told them earlier.”

“Too late now.”

“Yeah.” Lenny takes a deep breath. “Better late than never.”

“Yeah.” Feid rubs the back of his neck. Lenny still isn’t looking at him. “We should go back inside.”

Lenny doesn’t answer, but he does look at Feid. He straightens up and adjusts his shirt. He flashes that devilish half-smile, so quickly that Feid doesn’t even have time to react. Lenny steals a kiss, and then he’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter fourteen title from [sola](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0tLN_fuYovI).


	15. abajo dice “my love” [nov 2023]

Lenny has been running around for the whole party, and he’s exhausted. Ivy’s tired, too; she’s started getting fussy, and Lenny isn’t sure how much longer she’ll hold out. He needs to find Feid — he’s barely seen him all day.

He hands Ivy off to Manuela, who points him in Feid’s direction. Lenny makes his way across the yard to Feid, dodging conversation on the way. Finally, he falls into the empty chair beside Feid. “Were you just sitting here by yourself?”

“Sky was there a second ago,” Feid replies.

“Oh.”

Feid takes a deep breath. “We should do this before people start leaving.”

Lenny takes a quick head count. Manuela has Ivy. Beside her, Gab and Carina — or maybe Cristina, Lenny can’t tell the twins apart. Michelle is in a deep discussion with Yarelys, who’s ignoring Zara tugging at her sleeve. Ruby and Janlex are tossing a Frisbee, but even with Yzabelle and Maximo and Marciano trying their hardest to ruin the game, they look bored.

And the adults: Sech and Flow, check; Justin and Jen, check, with Sky’s girlfriend whose name Lenny can never remember; Patricia, check, but no Dalex. Others are milling around, talking in mixed groups, watching the kids play.

“Missing a few,” Feid says.

“You read my mind,” Lenny snorts.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Yza!” Feid calls, his hands cupped around his mouth.

Yza looks at them, and Feid beckons her over. She says something to Max that Lenny doesn’t catch, then comes running.

Feid leans down to talk to her. “Can you do a very important job for me and Tío Lenny?” Yza nods. “Can you go find Papi, and Carina, and any of the other grown-ups who aren’t out here right now?”

So that must be Cristina in Gab’s arms. Not that it matters.

“Okay,” Yza says.

“Okay,” Feid echoes. “Dale, dale.”

She runs off. Feid leans back and sighs. “It’ll be nice when Ivy can do stuff for us.”

Lenny almost makes a joke — who does Feid think he is, assuming he’ll still be around in five or six or seven years? — but he doesn’t. His heart is in his throat. All he really wants is to reach out and take Feid’s hand, but he can’t do that, either. Not yet. Instead he just says, “Yeah.”

A few minutes later, Dalex emerges carrying Carina. Sky and a few others follow. Dalex raises an eyebrow at Feid, who replies with a _just wait_ gesture.

 _If only he knew_ , Lenny thinks. _Maybe he’d rather stay inside._

Once everyone is accounted for, Lenny stands and clears his throat. Even though he feels a little silly, he taps his glass with a fork. The sound is louder than he expected, but it works; everyone is looking at him.

He glances back — Feid is looking at him, too, and suddenly he feels better. Lighter. He clears his throat again.

“Uh,” he starts. “Thank you all for coming. I know there’s probably a million things more fun than a baby’s birthday party, but…” He shrugs, and a few people laugh. “But really, thank you. Especially those of you who traveled to get here. I hope it’s worth it.”

Gab and Michelle glance at each other, and Manuela kisses Ivy’s head. Lenny tries not to make eye contact with any of them.

“Another thousand thank-yous to Dalex and Patricia, for hosting. We — I owe you big time.”

The “we” slipped out before he could stop himself. He hopes no one caught it, but based on the raised eyebrows and glances past him, he knows he’s not that lucky. His face heats up, but he presses on.

“Thank you, too, for everyone who’s helped me keep this kid alive for a year.”

“Almost,” Feid says softly.

Lenny smiles. “Almost a year. You all know me. I’m not the most, uh, nurturing person. But I’m learning. And —" He swallows hard. His chest hurts all of a sudden. “Fuck. Sorry. Uh — sorry.”

He sips his water and wishes it were whiskey.

And then, Feid’s voice again at his side, so low he almost misses it. “You’ve got this.”

Lenny takes a deep breath, gathers his thoughts, and continues. “I really couldn’t have done this alone. I don’t think either Ivy or I would have made it more than a couple of weeks. But I wasn’t alone. I had —"

He had all these words planned, all the ways he could try to describe Feid, as if there are words to describe everything he’s done in the past almost-a-year. None of them feel right now. Besides, if Lenny opens his mouth, he thinks he might cry, and he cannot cry in front of all these people.

Instead, he gestures for Feid to stand up beside him. Feid stands, smiling at Lenny with that big cheesy smile, and Lenny can’t help but smile back.

“Salo,” he says, but he can’t say any more than that. “Oh, fuck it.”

Lenny grabs Feid around the waist with his free hand and kisses him fiercely. Feid, still smiling, throws his arms around Lenny and kisses back. This is not at all what they planned.

There’s a long beat of silence.

Then, a wolf whistle. Then, someone shouts, “I knew it!” and others laugh. Lenny thinks he hears applause, too, but that could just be the blood rushing in his ears.

After a moment, Lenny pulls back. His eyes don’t move from Feid’s face; he needs another moment or two before he can face their friends. He takes Feid’s hand, twining their fingers together.

And then a door slams.

All the laughter and talking stops. Feid’s smile falls. They both look out over the crowd, taking another head count, trying to figure out who’s missing. Those who are left are looking around, too. There are some whispers, a noise from one of the babies.

The realization hits them both at the same time. “Flow,” they say together.

“Fuck him,” Lenny says.

“I’ll talk to him,” Feid says.

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do.”

With that, he’s gone. Lenny’s hand hangs limp, fingers entwined with empty air. He’s not sure who has the harder job now — managing one pissed-off producer, or fighting off the rest of their friends and family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter fifteen title also from [sola](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0tLN_fuYovI).


	16. vamos a escaparnos tú y yo [nov 2023]

The ride home is silent and tense. Ivy fell asleep almost the moment Feid buckled her into her seat, and though she’d probably sleep through an earthquake after all the excitement of the party, they keep the radio on low. Neither sings along.

Lenny turns his right hand palm-up, and Feid takes it. “That wasn’t so bad,” Lenny says.

“Could’ve been worse.”

“Is Manu still staying with us?”

“I think so.” Feid checks his phone, but there’s nothing there besides the same twelve messages he’s been ignoring since they left Dalex’s house. “She was pretty upset.”

“Because you didn’t tell her, or…?”

“Yeah, that. She doesn’t care about… the other stuff.” The fact that they still have to worry about “the other stuff” makes Feid want to throw something. He can still hear Flow’s words in his head, but he’d rather not think about that.

“Gab and Michelle too. They’ve thought we were together since, like, 2019. I think they offered Manu a spot in their hotel room, actually.”

That explains why she left with them, at least. Feid will call her in an hour or so to confirm their plan — or maybe he should wait for her to call first. “I’m glad they get along.”

“Me, too.” Lenny swallows. He squeezes Feid’s hand. “You don’t think they’ll say anything to our parents.”

He doesn’t phrase it like a question, but Feid answers anyway. “No. Manu won’t. But we should call them tonight.”

“Yeah.”

Feid has only met Lenny’s parents a handful of times, and he has no idea how they’ll react. His own parents will be happy, probably; they love him, and he’s pretty sure they don’t care about “the other stuff” either. And they’ll understand why he waited to tell them.

“Question,” Lenny says.

 _Don’t ask about Flow_ , Feid thinks. He’d rather pretend like that never happened. Out loud, he says, “Answer.”

“Who said ‘I knew it’ when I kissed you?”

Feid laughs, relieved. “Jen, I think.”

“Jesus. I thought it was Yare.”

“Could’ve been Yare.” Feid pauses, watches the city roll by out the window. “They all knew.”

“Before we did,” Lenny finishes for him.

And they all still love them, mostly, even if they’re upset about the timing. It could’ve been worse. Could’ve been _a lot_ worse.

It still could be, Feid realizes; they still have plenty of friends and family to tell, not to mention the rest of the world. Maybe that last part can wait a little while. Private, not secret. The ones who need to know will know.

They can talk about it again when they get home. Right now, Lenny’s one-handed driving is making Feid a little nervous, but he’s not about to let go of his other hand.

“I love you,” Feid says.

“I love you, too,” Lenny says. And then he asks, “What did Flow say?”

Feid grimaces. They didn’t talk long, Feid and Flow, but Flow said plenty. The question is just how much Lenny needs to hear — and how much Feid wants to repeat.

“He said,” Feid starts, then hesitates. He tries again, fighting to keep his voice mild. “He said, he always suspected me, but he expected better of you.”

Lenny doesn’t reply. He just purses his lips and stares at the road ahead. Repeated back to Lenny like that, the word “better” stirs something in Feid’s memory, but he can’t quite place it. He strokes the back of Lenny’s hand with his thumb.

Finally, Lenny says, “Call him.”

“What?”

“Call Flow. I want to talk to him.”

“I’m not going to call him.”

“Fine, I will. Hey, Siri —" But Feid already has Lenny’s phone in his hand, turning it off before it can follow his directions. “Let me talk to him,” Lenny says.

“No. Lenny, no. Not with Ivy in the car.”

“When we get home, then.”

“When we get home,” Feid concedes.

He’s already ready to take Ivy out onto the balcony — or send Lenny out, if she’s still asleep — when Lenny makes the call. Feid managed to keep his cool listening to Flow, mostly from sheer surprise, but he knows Lenny’s won’t. Even though Ivy won’t understand anything, she doesn’t need to hear her dad yelling.

Feid checks his own phone. Fifteen messages now, and a missed call. He clears all of them.

“Fuck him,” Lenny mutters. His grip on Feid’s hand is iron, as if one maybe-former friend could take him away. Feid squeezes back.

Feid searches for a subject change, but he can’t think of anything but the party. “What was Marina saying to you when we left?” he asks.

“Marina?”

“Sky’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, is that her name?”

“Yeah,” Feid laughs.

Lenny smiles slightly. “She wanted to know what she should wear to the wedding.”

“What wedding?”

“That’s what I said. Ours, apparently. She wanted to know if Sky is going to be one of your groomsmen — she says he doesn’t own a tie.” Lenny’s grip loosens, and Feid stretches his fingers without fully letting go. “I told her you don’t, either.”

“I do,” Feid protests, then amends, “I do own a tie.”

Lenny laughs. “Okay, sure. I told her it’s only been three months, anyway.”

Feid chews his lip. He’s sure Lenny knows what he’s going to ask. This feels like bait again.

He bites. “Would you?” he asks. “Get married again?” The “again” slips out unplanned, but Lenny doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Are you proposing?”

“Just asking.”

Lenny hums. “Maybe. To the right person, maybe.” He throws Feid a sideways glance. “After more than three months. Would you?”

“I think so. Like you said, to the right person.” _To the father of my daughter_ , he adds silently.

Maybe Lenny hears his thought, though. He glances at Ivy in the rearview mirror. “She’s really lucky to have you, you know. We both are.”

Feid brings their joined hands up and kisses the back of Lenny’s. He wouldn’t have believed it ten months ago, but he’s the lucky one. He opens his mouth to say so, but Lenny speaks first.

“And our friends will get over it.”

“Yeah,” Feid says, “maybe in a couple of years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter sixteen title from [after party](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0Ocfe69C3o).
> 
> chapter three of [yo la radio](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25973965/chapters/64117069) goes here.


	17. hace preguntas como un periodista [may 2025]

Halfway through Lenny’s verse of “Explícita,” something collides with his leg. He falters his line and just barely avoids losing his balance completely. When he looks down, Ivy’s big dark eyes are staring back at him.

He scoops her up one-handed — not as easily as he’d like — and props her on his hip. He tries to turn her face away from the crowd, but there are cameras at all angles. Feid, hyped up on concert adrenaline, is deep into his own verse and doesn’t even seem to notice them.

Lenny clicks his mic back into its stand and takes his earpiece out. “What, baby?” he asks into Ivy’s ear.

“Papi,” is all she says in return.

“Where’s Tía Roxy?”

“No.”

Lenny looks off to the side of the stage, where his young assistant is standing and watching them. She shrugs helplessly. He should’ve let her get that kid leash that she was sort-of-joking about before the show.

Actually, Feid was right; they shouldn’t have brought Ivy here at all. He thought they didn’t have a choice; they can’t leave her alone, and her usual babysitter’s set is next. At least she has her arms around his neck and her face buried in his shoulder now, so he doesn’t have to worry about the cameras catching her. He puts one hand on the back of her head to hold her still.

He has a choice now. He can try to run offstage, hand Ivy back to Roxy, and hope she stays put without crying too much. Or he can hold her here, calm and secure, hiding her face as best he can. If only Feid would turn around.

As if reading his mind, Ivy says, “Canta, Papi.”

And, well, Lenny isn’t going to say no to that.

It’s a little strange to stand and sing without _performing_ , without dancing or jumping across the stage like he’s used to, but he picks up the last chorus and settles in. Ivy bobs her head and kicks her feet to the rhythm as if he’s singing just for her.

Finally, _finally_ Feid turns around, and then it’s his turn to falter a line. Lenny watches his eyes — Ivy, to Lenny, to Roxy, back to Lenny. Lenny forces a smile.

 _This is fine_ , he tries to transmit to Feid.

Feid’s raised eyebrows ask, _Are you sure?_

Lenny nods. A wild thought crosses his mind, but he pushes it away. For a year and a half, they’ve managed to keep their relationship secret — _private_ is a lie, after so long. There’s no point in changing it now.

Between songs, Feid pops his own earpiece out and comes over to speak to Lenny. “You good?” he asks. At least he didn’t say “told you so.”

“Yeah, we’re good.” But Feid is so close now, it takes everything in Lenny not to pull him closer and kiss him, privacy or secrecy be damned. Only the roar of the crowd stops him.

Ivy does reach for Feid, though. As Lenny hands her over, he leans in just a little bit closer than necessary. “We’re going to get a lot of questions about this,” he says.

“Yeah.” Feid adjusts Ivy so he can hold her one-armed. His free hand twitches toward Lenny. “Should we give them something else to ask about?”

“Yeah,” Ivy says.

Lenny knows she couldn’t possibly have understood the question — or even heard it, maybe, over the filler music and the audience — but he and Feid both look at her.

Lenny really doesn’t want a repeat of her first birthday party, though. They’d planned to “come out” that day, but not with a public kiss, and he’d hoped they stick to a script a little better when it came time to tell the rest of the world. Now, with thousands of eyes on them…

“No,” Lenny says. Feid nods, and Lenny isn’t sure if it’s an agreement or an argument. “No,” he says again. “Not right now.”

They manage to make it through the rest of their set, passing Ivy back and forth between songs, letting their hands brush slightly but never saying a word. As soon as they step off the stage, festival employees herd all three of them into an area packed with press. It’s the last place Lenny wants to be, especially with Ivy, but they don’t have much of a choice. Ivy refuses to be handed off to Roxy or anyone else, so Feid holds her close.

“Cover her face if you can,” Lenny murmurs, as if Feid doesn’t already know. Feid nods.

But Ivy isn’t an infant anymore. As soon as she sees the cameras, she pushes Feid’s hand away and stares at them wide-eyed. Feid is wide-eyed, too, giving Lenny the same helpless look that Roxy wore half an hour earlier.

“Well,” Lenny says, then turns to his daughter. “Ivy, do you want to say hi?”

Ivy waves, suddenly shy. A few of the photographers wave back.

“How old is she now, Lenny?” the interviewer asks. She’s famous, the interviewer, but Lenny can’t quite place her. She’s tall and dyed-blonde, wearing heavy makeup and a red dress that two years ago Lenny would’ve considered just the right level of revealing.

He stares for a beat too long. Feid clears his throat to bring Lenny back to earth, and Lenny blinks. “Two and a half,” he says.

“And you two have lived with Feid all that time,” the interviewer says.

Whoever she is, she doesn’t pull any punches. Lenny thought post-show interviews were supposed to be easy.

Feid comes to his rescue as always. “Yes,” he says, “they have.”

His tone is so final that Lenny thinks the interviewer has no choice but to leave it alone. Instead, she turns her focus to Feid. “What does Ivy call you? Are you Tío Feid?”

“Ivy,” Feid says, tapping her arm. He points at Lenny. “Who’s that?”

“Papi,” Ivy says quietly. Still shy.

Feid smiles and points to himself. “Good. And who’s this?”

“Papi,” Ivy repeats.

“No!” Feid and Lenny say in unison.

Feid shakes his head and indicates Lenny again. “No, that’s Papi. Who am I?”

Ivy blinks. She hesitates for a second, then lays her head on Feid’s shoulder. “Cho,” she says.

“Is that her version of ‘Ferxxo?’” the journalist asks.

Feid opens his mouth to answer, but Lenny beats him to it. “No. It’s her version of ‘cucho.’” Feid kisses Ivy’s head, and Lenny smiles at them. “It’s a Colombian word to call your dad,” he finishes.

This time when Feid’s hand twitches toward Lenny, Lenny takes it. Nearly two years in, it still feels like the first time. They finish the interview like that, side-by-side as a team. As a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter seventeen title from [mala fama](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ntqq9SI0ZjE).


	18. yo no quiero que te vayas a otra parte [ago 2028]

“Can you please put the camera down for one minute?” Lenny sighs.

Feid nods, but he doesn’t put the camera down. He’s filming over his shoulder while Ivy practically bounces out of her car seat. She’s been talking nonstop since she woke up about all the things she’s going to do at big kid school, and Feid wants to catch every second of it. 

He already filmed all their prep, though Lenny rolled his eyes plenty last night too. Picking out Ivy’s first-day outfit, packing a lunch, filling her tiny floral-printed backpack — he watched it all in double over the viewscreen of the camera he’s been using for nearly fifteen years. Fifteen years from now, Lenny will thank him for recording it all.

“Please,” Lenny repeats. “We’re almost there.”

“Okay.” Feid turns the camera off. He’ll get more once they’re out of the car, before they get inside. Car footage will be shaky, anyway.

Closing the viewscreen feels like taking off a mask. No longer focused on keeping Ivy in frame and his hands steady, his mind shifts back to the reason he’s recording today in the first place. Yesterday Ivy was an infant sleeping in Lenny’s arms, and today she’s a kindergartener. Feid fidgets with the camera’s buttons.

“You’re sure we’re allowed to go in with her?” he asks.

Lenny taps the steering wheel. “Yeah. That’s what the website said.”

“And they’ll let me in?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Okay.” Feid doesn’t want to vocalize that particular worry right now — not with Ivy still chattering happily behind them. It’s not that Feid formally adopting Ivy is a sore subject, exactly, but it’s a bigger discussion than they can have in the last mile to school. He turns around to Ivy. “Do you remember your teacher’s name?”

“Um,” Ivy says. She looks out the window as she thinks, and Feid watches her face in the reflection. With her brow furrowed in concentration, the mirror image could be five-year-old Lenny’s. Feid’s heart twists.

Lenny glances at Feid. “You want to give her a hint?”

“Do you know it?”

“Of course,” Lenny lies.

Before Feid can call him on it, Ivy asks, “Is that my school?”

It is. They’re early, but the parking lot is already nearly full, the carpool line long with parents dropping off their older kids who don’t need help finding their classrooms. Lenny manages to find a spot, and in Feid’s last shot before he has to put the camera away to go inside, Ivy is practically vibrating with excitement.

The kindergarten classrooms are easy to find, too; as soon as Ivy spots the K over their wing, she drags Lenny and Feid toward them. Feid only makes Lenny sweat for a second before nudging him toward the third room, labeled with Miss Robinson in six-inch-high purple letters. Lenny nods and leads them in as if he were headed there all along.

While Lenny gets in line to talk to the teacher, Feid and Ivy go in search of Ivy’s desk. “Tell me if you see your name, okay?” Feid says. Ivy nods.

She’s not bouncing so much anymore — she’s looking around nervously at the desks, the other kids, and the teacher. This room is bigger than her preschool classroom, with real desks, and it seems like it’s just now striking Ivy that this is _happening_. She’s a big kid now.

The reality is settling in for Feid, too, but he’d rather not think about that.

Instead, he points to each name as he and Ivy walk down the aisle between desks. “Jenkins,” he reads aloud, “Johnson, Ko, Lee. I think we need to go over a row.” But he keeps reading as they pass. “Li, Londoño, Martin — hold on.”

“That’s not me, Cucho,” Ivy says.

“I know, reina. I just thought I —"

He can’t even finish the thought. As if summoned, Londoño is standing there in the doorway of the classroom. Or rather, the Londoños are standing there — both Juan, looking so much older than the last time Feid saw him, and the kindergartener half-hiding behind his legs.

Juan’s face lights up when he sees Feid. He says something low to the child at his side, then in another moment, they’re both here in front of Feid and Ivy. Feid should say something, but nothing feels quite right. It’s been so long.

“Salo,” Juan says.

And Feid says, “Juan.”

And then they’re hugging, not the one-armed bro-hug that they used to do but a proper embrace, Feid’s face in Juan’s shoulder and Juan’s arms tight. It’s been _so_ long. Years. Too long. Feid knew there was a chance he might cry today, but he didn’t expect this to be the reason.

Ivy tugs on Feid’s shirt, and he steps back from Juan with a shaky laugh. “Who’s that?” she asks.

Without missing a beat, Juan squats down to talk to Ivy face-to-face. “I’m Juan. And what’s your name?” He extends his hand, and she shakes it warily.

“Ivy.”

“Ivy, nice to meet you. And this is Itzel. Looks like you two are going to be desk neighbors.”

Feid glances over at the next row of desks. Juan is right — Tavárez, Ivy right next to Londoño Dias, Itzel. Itzel waves shyly, and Ivy waves back. Feid smiles at them both.

“She’s yours?” Juan asks, straightening up to address Feid again.

“Ours,” Lenny answers. “Hello, Juan.”

Surprise flashes across Juan’s face, but it’s quickly replaced by a smile. “Oh, congratulations. Good to see you, Lenny; it’s been a while.” But he doesn’t hug Lenny. He shakes his hand, and Lenny only looks slightly less wary than Ivy did.

Lenny touches Feid’s arm. “We should get going, yeah? Ivy —"

They look down, but the kids have already completely forgotten the adults. They’re each in their own seats, unpacking their backpacks and showing off their shiny new school supplies. Ivy’s cat-face-printed notebook is on Itzel’s desk, a new dinosaur-covered one on Ivy’s. All the initial shyness is gone. For kindergarteners, desk neighbors are automatic best friends.

“Yeah,” Feid says, “we should go.” He takes Lenny’s hand and squeezes it. Lenny swallows hard, but Feid knows he won’t cry in public like this. “Come on. She’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

Feid manages to say something inadequate to Juan about lunch sometime before he and Lenny wish Ivy good luck, tell her to be good, and leave her. His own eyes are stinging at the corners. He squeezes Lenny’s hand again.

“I won’t cry if you don’t,” Lenny says.

“Deal,” Feid says.

But the car is so quiet without Ivy’s chatter in the back seat. Feid thinks about a whole day at home without her — and thinks about how soon they’ll be dropping her off for first grade, then middle school, then college — and thinks about how he should’ve at least gotten Juan’s phone number, after years of silence — and if he cries just a little bit, he can only hope that Lenny doesn’t notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter eighteen title from [un baile más](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CsPahjQJlHU).


	19. cuando falle la memoria [ago 2028]

Lenny can’t sleep. He wants to get up and sit on the balcony, or at least look at his phone instead of the ceiling. But he’s pretty sure Feid is asleep, and he doesn’t want to disturb him. He continues staring at the ceiling.

“What’s wrong?” Feid murmurs.

“You’re awake.”

“ _You’re_ awake.”

Lenny smiles. “Okay, fair.”

“So what’s wrong?” Feid rolls closer to Lenny and puts an arm around him, but Lenny doesn’t move.

How does he even begin to explain? It’s not just Ivy’s first day of school; besides, he knows Feid had just as many mixed emotions about that as Lenny himself did. He doesn’t need to explain that part. There’s something else keeping him awake.

Somehow, the _something else_ comes out as, “She says Itzel is her best friend.”

“Yeah, she’s five. That’s how fast five-year-olds bond.”

“It’s not that,” Lenny says. He rubs his eyes. “If Itzel is her best friend… we’re going to be seeing a lot of Juan.”

Feid shifts slightly beside him. “I hope so.”

“Mm.”

“What ‘mm?’” When Lenny doesn’t answer, Feid sits up halfway, propping himself up on one elbow to look at Lenny. “Lenny, are you jealous?”

“No,” Lenny says. He knows Feid won’t believe him, so he follows it up with, “I’m really not. It’s just…” He takes a deep breath. What he says next is going to come out wrong no matter how he says it — all he can do is hope that Feid understands. “He ghosted you — ghosted the whole world for like five years, and now you want to see him like nothing happened? Did you even know he had a kid?”

“He ‘ghosted the world’ because his _wife died_ , Lenny. You’re going to hold that against him?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

Lenny knew he shouldn’t have said anything. He should’ve pretended to be asleep. Feid knows him so well, but sometimes it feels like he misunderstands on purpose. This time, though, Lenny isn’t even sure what it was that meant to say. Of course he doesn’t fault Juan for his wife’s death, or for his grief; that would be insane. That’s not what he meant.

“I know,” Feid says at last. “I know what you meant, I think. It sucks. I wish he’d talked to us.” Feid lies back down, and Lenny finds his hand.

“Yeah.” He pauses. “ _Did_ you know he had a kid?”

“Yeah. I mean, sort of. He still answered Jose sometimes, and then Jose kept the rest of us up-to-date as best he could. It was always vague, though. I didn’t know they were still in Miami.”

Lenny runs his thumb over Feid’s knuckles. There’s something in Feid’s voice that Lenny can’t quite place — almost sadness, almost regret, but not quite either of those. But all Lenny can think is: no matter how tight that hug looked, he’s still the one with Feid in his bed at the end of the day.

Maybe he was a little jealous. Just a little.

“I think,” Lenny starts, but he cut himself off.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“No, tell me.”

Lenny inhales through his nose, holds the breath for a beat, then lets it out through his mouth. The thought is there now, and it won’t leave him alone until he says it out loud. “I think I would ghost the world for five years if you died, too.”

“Oh.” Feid pulls Lenny closer, and Lenny lets him. Feid kisses him gently. Lenny expects him to say _don’t think about that_ or _I would for you, too_ , or maybe even _I’m never going to die_ , but he doesn’t. There’s a smile in his eyes, though he manages to keep it off his lips. “Just five years?” he asks.

Lenny can’t help but laugh. “Ten years.”

“Fifteen,” Feid counters.

“Thirteen. I’ll come back to send Ivy off to —" But if they’re laughing to keep from crying, he can’t say _college_ aloud. 

“Fair.” Feid kisses Lenny again, then strokes his jawline with one finger. “It’s okay to be jealous. But I will never love anyone as much as I love you. Not today, not in five years, not when we’re ninety-two and Ivy is the president of Mars. You’re all I need. You and Ivy. Got it?”

“Got it,” Lenny says, but his voice is thick. He wants to say something equally strong back. It’s all true for him, too, everything Feid said and everything he didn’t say, but if he opens his mouth again, he’ll definitely cry.

Instead, he kisses his partner, angling their bodies so they’re as close as possible without crawling into each other’s skin. It’s almost close enough. If they’re close enough, time will slow down. They’ll live here forever in their bed. Ivy will never age, Feid and Lenny will never age, and no one they love will ever die. There’s no room for jealousy or tragedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter nineteen title from [ADMV](youtube.com/watch?v=lNBSdFw0t_w).
> 
> sorry.


	20. sin explicación llegaste así [oct 2028]

When Feid pulls up into the carpool line, Ivy’s teacher opens the car door herself instead of leaving it to one of the orange-vested fifth-graders. “Ivy had a rough day,” she says.

Feid turns around in his seat, but the door is closed before he can ask Miss Robinson to elaborate. Ivy’s eyes are red. She doesn’t make eye contact with Feid; she twists and untwists the straps of her backpack. The car in front of theirs pulls forward, and Feid follows slowly.

Ivy doesn’t speak for the first mile. Whenever Feid glances at her in the rearview mirror, she looks like she’s on the verge of tears, but she doesn’t cry. She just keeps toying with her backpack straps, not even looking out the window.

Just as Feid opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, Ivy asks, “Cucho, where do babies come from?”

Feid closes his mouth. He knew this question was coming _eventually_ , though he’d really hoped Lenny would be here when it did. He taps the steering wheel. Maybe he can stall her until they get home. “Why do you ask?”

“Jack said —" Ivy starts, and then she bursts into tears.

“Oh no. What did Jack say?”

Between hiccuping sobs, Ivy says, “Jack’s brother said that babies come from a mommy and a daddy. But I don’t have a mommy and a daddy, and Itzel doesn’t, and —"

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay.” Feid reaches backward, but Ivy kicks his hand. “Hey. Breathe. It’s okay. We’re almost home. Let’s talk about this when we get home, okay? Papi and I can explain it. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ivy sniffles. She wipes her eyes with her forearm. “Put the music.”

Normally Feid would ask her for the magic word, but today he doesn’t. At the next red light, he puts on “the music” — Ivy’s playlist full of new and old songs, his own and Lenny’s and all her tíos’ and tías’. When he glances back at her again, she’s singing along softly.

Lenny, thank God, is already home by the time they get there. He’s sitting on the couch, and Ivy drops her backpack and dives onto his lap as soon as she sees him. He wraps his arms around her, kisses the top of her head, and looks up at Feid. “All good?”

All Feid can say is, “She had a rough day.”

“Papi,” Ivy says, voice muffled, “why don’t I have a mommy?”

Feid almost laughs at the exaggerated horror on Lenny’s face. Almost. Instead, he holds out his hand. “Maybe a snack and a talk.”

A few minutes later, they’re at the kitchen island with bowls of ice cream, Ivy and Feid sitting, Lenny standing and shifting nervously from foot to foot. Ivy has already explained more or less what Jack told her and her friends — now, she’s staring expectantly at her dad. Feid watches them both.

“Well.” Lenny pauses, pushes his hair back. “Jack is right.” Ivy’s lower lip begins to quiver slightly, and Lenny hurries to add, “Sort of. Technically. It’s complicated.”

“What’s _complicated_?” Ivy asks.

“Not easy to explain,” Feid says.

Lenny nods. “Right. Babies _are_ born from a mommy and daddy. But sometimes… sometimes the mommy doesn’t want to stay to be a mommy. Kids are a lot of work, and not everybody is ready for it.” Ivy opens her mouth to ask another question, but Lenny anticipates it and continues. “I’m sure she loves you very much. But she didn’t want to change your diapers, and let you sleep in her bed, and pick you up from school… so she gave you to me. And Cucho.”

Ivy thinks for a moment. She stirs her ice cream into a half-melted mess, but doesn’t eat. “You love me.”

“Yes,” Feid and Lenny say together.

“And you love Cucho.”

“Yes,” Lenny says.

“Are you going to have another baby?”

Feid nearly chokes on his ice cream, and Lenny’s eyes widen. “Uh,” Lenny says. “That part may be a conversation for another day.”

“Okay,” Ivy says. Feid can see the wheels turning in her head; he’s sure she has a thousand more questions, and is only quiet now because she’s trying to choose her next one. He and Lenny share a glance. Finally, she asks, “Did Itzel’s mommy not want to be a mommy, too?”

“Your turn,” Lenny says to Feid.

Feid pushes his bowl away. He didn’t have much of an appetite before, but it’s completely gone now. He should’ve expected this, should’ve known this is where the conversation would go. Why didn’t they address it during any of the endless Disney movies, comic books, or anime that Ivy loves? 

He realizes that time is passing and that Ivy is waiting for him. He has to say _something_. He opens his mouth and prays that the right words come out. “Sometimes parents don’t want to be parents, and sometimes they _can’t_. When Itzel was a baby, their mom got very sick, and then she died. When somebody dies, they’re not around anymore —" Feid swallows. “— even if everybody wants them to be.”

Ivy doesn’t reply, but she does finally take a bite of her ice cream. Feid looks at Lenny, who mouths, _Thank you_. Feid nods. When she’s older, they’ll explain it more. They’ll have to explain death, and sex, and how some people fall in love with boys or girls or both or neither. They should plan these things better — maybe tomorrow they can call a babysitter and spend a night out of the house, discuss how and when to lay out all these heavy topics.

How romantic.

“I have a Papi and a Cucho,” Ivy states. She counts on her fingers as she lists, “Itzel’s mom is died. Ruby lives sometimes with her mommy and sometimes with her daddy. Zara is adopted. Yza and Janlex and Yare have another mommy, but Cristi and Cari and Max are still their sisters and brother. Only Juli has one mommy and one daddy like Jack said.”

Feid does laugh then, and so does Lenny. Justin, Jen, and Juliana, the only perfect little nuclear family in their whole group of friends. They’re just missing the white picket fence and the dog — and the rings. _Soon_ , Justin keeps saying, and Feid makes a mental note to explain weddings to Ivy, too.

“There are a lot of different kinds of families,” Feid says.

“When I’m a grown-up, I’m not going to have any babies. I’m going to live with Itzel and I’m going to do music and they’re going to do art. And Faaron can live with us too. That’s a family.”

“Yeah, it is,” Lenny says. He’s smiling, but he won’t meet Feid’s eye. Feid reaches across the table, and Lenny takes his hand. There will be more questions later, he’s sure; someday, they should tell her the full story of Lenny and infant Ivy showing up on Feid’s doorstep, how they thought this was all temporary, how they didn’t love each other until they did. But for now, at least, Ivy seems satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter twenty title from [pero te conocí](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rcRX1ma5Zh4).


	21. hoy no vamos a dormir [feb 2029]

Itzel falls asleep during the movie. Juan warned him that they might, but Lenny still smiles softly when their head rests against his shoulder. He doesn’t nudge them awake. Ivy, riveted to the screen, doesn’t even seem to notice. She’s holding a tiny fistful of popcorn paused halfway between the bowl and her mouth.

Lenny glances at Feid, but he’s snoring, too. It’s not like any of them are missing Oscar-worthy cinema — he’s lost count of how many times they’ve seen this same cartoon — but Lenny didn’t expect anyone to fall asleep quite so early. It’s barely seven-thirty, and part of the draw of her first sleepover was supposed to be a slightly more relaxed bedtime for Ivy.

He shifts his arm, and Itzel shifts with him. They don’t wake up. “Ivy,” Lenny whispers. She tears her gaze away from the TV. He indicates Itzel with his head.

“Itzel!” Ivy cries. Feid startles awake and rubs his eyes, but Itzel doesn’t react. Ivy pokes them. “Itzel, wake up.”

They do, slowly and reluctantly, looking around with growing confusion when they realize that Lenny’s arm isn’t Juan’s. Lenny watches their face, wary of tears.

“You falled asleep,” Ivy says.

At the sound of her voice, Itzel’s face clears. “What’d I miss?”

During Ivy’s rambling summary of the last few minutes of movie, Lenny catches Feid’s eye. He doesn’t have to say a word. Feid nods, stretches, and stands. “Are you girls about ready for bed?”

Itzel and Lenny both open their mouths, but Ivy gets there first. “Itzel’s not a girl, Cucho.” Itzel nods.

“You’re right,” Feid says. “I’m sorry, Itzel. Are you kids ready to build your bed?”

At least he remembered Juan’s advice for recovering from a slip. Either his apology was accepted or his word choice was enough to distract them, because Ivy and Itzel look at each other, then at Lenny.

“You heard him,” Lenny says. “It’s a sleepover. You thought you were going to sleep in your regular bed?”

Twenty minutes later, every sheet, blanket, and pillow in the apartment has been piled onto the floor of the living room in a giant nest. Ivy wraps herself in her own blanket like a tiny burrito, Itzel curls up surrounded by four pillows from Lenny and Feid’s bed, and Lenny collapses onto the couch.

Feid surveys the scene. “And where am I supposed to sleep?”

“Your bed,” Itzel says, voice muffled by the pillows.

“My bed!” Feid crosses his arms and cocks his head. “I’m not invited to the sleepover?”

“No,” Ivy says.

“No,” Itzel echoes.

“No Papi either,” Ivy says.

“No boys,” Itzel says.

Lenny laughs despite himself. He shouldn’t encourage them, but their tiny voices are so cute. “So I can’t stay on the couch, then?”

“No,” both kids say.

Lenny sits up and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. Two pairs of eyes look up at him from the nest on the floor — plus Feid’s across the room. Before he can say anything else, though, Faaron wanders out from Lenny and Feid’s bedroom, stretching lazily and heading for Ivy. He kneads the blankets for a moment, then curls up between her and Itzel.

“No boys, huh?” Feid says.

“Faaron doesn’t count,” Ivy says. She wiggles one arm free from her blanket cocoon and scratches his head. He head-butts her in response.

“He can keep an eye on them, can’t he?” Lenny asks Feid. When the little eyes cut to Feid, Lenny winks. “We’re probably fine to stay in our own bed.”

“Yeah,” Itzel says, and Ivy echoes, “Yeah.”

Lenny is suddenly very, very glad that Ivy’s mother didn’t show up at his door with twins. Even with Feid at his side, he doesn’t think he’d make it through bedtime negotiations with two opponents every night. Next time he sees Dalex, he’ll buy him a shot or ten.

Feid hesitates. “Please, Cucho,” Ivy says.

“We’ll be good,” Itzel says. They interrupt themselves with a yawn, and Lenny suspects they’ll both be asleep within ten minutes no matter where the adults crash.

“Okay,” Feid says at last, “fine. But we’re leaving the door open.”

The giggling starts almost immediately after Lenny’s head hits the pillow. They don’t even have to know what Ivy and Itzel are laughing about; the sound alone sets both Lenny’s and Feid’s shoulder shaking, too. Under their own blanket, side-by-side, Lenny can’t help but feel like a kid at a sleepover with his best friend, too.

The only difference, of course, is that he happens to be in love with his best friend.

Lenny doesn’t remember falling asleep. The next thing he knows, a small hand is tapping on his shoulder. He blinks and rubs his eyes. In the dim moonlight, he can make out Itzel’s face. They’re sniffling softly and wiping their eyes with one hand. “Tío Lenny,” they say in a shaky voice.

“What’s wrong, angel?”

“Tío Lenny, I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

Itzel pauses. They sniffle again. “I don’t know.”

Lenny sighs and sits up halfway. Feid is still asleep, his back to Lenny. “Should we call your dad?” he asks.

Itzel shakes their head. “I don’t wanna go home.”

“Okay.” Lenny runs a hand down his face. He’s not thinking clearly; it’s three o’clock in the morning. Ivy would already be in the bed between him and Feid, but he’s not sure what to do for this scared child who isn’t his. “Do you… want me to go out and sleep on the couch?”

Itzel starts to nod, then pauses and turns it into another head-shake. “In the nest,” they say.

It takes a second for Lenny to process the words. In the nest, okay. On the floor. He can probably do that. He’s not _that_ old. He leans over to kiss Feid — Feid barely stirs — then follows Itzel back into the living room.

Ivy is fast asleep in her own corner of the nest. Faaron’s glowing eyes track Lenny, and the hair on the back of Lenny’s neck prickles. Maybe he understands why Itzel was scared.

He settles in among the pillows between Itzel and Ivy, careful not to wake his daughter. He’s not a tall guy, but the pillow fort was built for kids, and there’s no easy way for an adult to get comfortable. _Maybe I am too old for this_ , he thinks. He’s going to feel it in the morning for sure.

But when Itzel’s sleepy little voice at his side says, “I love you, Tío Lenny,” all thoughts of the next morning’s aches disappear.

“Love you too, Itzel. Sleep well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter twenty-one title from [sin pijama](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zEf423kYfqk).
> 
> chapter four of [yo la radio](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25973965/chapters/65842936#workskin) goes here.


	22. had a good seat, ceremony was sweet [abr 2030]

After almost two decades of performing, standing up in front of 150 people should not make Feid so nervous, but he shifts from foot to foot in the sand. Even with his sleeves rolled up, it’s too hot. At least he managed to get out of wearing a tie.

With Lenny in front of him and Sky behind him, he looks out over the crowd. He knows almost everyone, his own friends making up a solid half of the guests. He takes a deep breath.

No one is looking at Feid, anyway. They’re all looking at Justin, or at each other, or backward to try to catch the first glimpse of Jen in her white dress. Justin looks nervous, too, but he’s the one who actually has reason to be.

Feid finds Ivy in the audience. She’s halfway out of her chair so she can reach the sand with her bare feet. There’s no sign of her too-expensive shoes, but at least she’s quiet. Beside her, Itzel is doing the same thing. Juan leans over to say something to them both, and the kids nod. Jose catches Feid’s eye and winks.

Just as Feid starts to wink back, the music changes, and all 150 heads turn. Feid glances at Justin, who’s trying hard not to fidget. Justin’s nervous forced smile turns into a real one, and Feid follows his gaze down the aisle. Juliana is walking slowly, but it’s the kind of slow-walk that betrays how badly she wants to break into a run and jump into her father’s arms. She’s flinging white flower petals in every direction.

“Juli!” a small voice whisper-shouts from the crowd. Someone else shushes them.

Lenny covers his eyes with a murmured _oh my god_ , but Feid looks. Ivy and Itzel are waving frantically at Juliana, despite Juan and Jose’s combined efforts to stop them. One row back, the youngest of the Daleccio-Corcino clan are doing the same, and their parents aren’t having much more luck than Juan and Jose.

Juliana spots them and waves back, throwing a particularly large handful of petals in their direction. Everyone laughs, Justin included.

Finally, Juliana reaches Justin. He kisses her quickly before sending her to the empty chair beside his mother — thankfully on the opposite side of the aisle from Ivy and friends. She sits with her mostly-empty basket in her lap and lets her abuela tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

And there’s Jen. Radiant, glowing, dark hair against a white dress, her father on her right arm and her mother on her left. Everyone stands as she makes her way down the aisle.

Feid looks past Lenny, past Justin’s brother whose name Feid can’t remember, at Justin’s face again. He’s not crying, but even from this angle, Feid can see his eyes shining. Lenny nudges Feid gently, probably thinking the same thing Feid is — Jen’s laughing threat to _make_ Justin cry when he saw her if he didn’t do it on his own.

Jen hugs her parents, her father shakes Justin’s hand and her mother kisses him on the cheek, and then Feid more or less stops paying attention. Weddings always do something to him, and he’d rather not tear up in front of all these people. He tries to remember that wedding-themed music video he shot a million years ago, but he doesn’t want to start laughing, either. Something else, then.

But all he can think is how surreal this is. He’s standing beside his partner of almost seven years — _seven years_ , his brain echoes, disbelieving — in front of all their friends, on a beautiful beach on Lenny’s island, hearing wedding vows. They’ve made plenty of jokes about being “next,” joining the cluster of women to catch Jen’s bouquet, but nothing serious.

They should talk about it. Not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon. Or maybe Feid will just propose. Why not?

He almost proposed to a girlfriend once. He hadn’t bought the ring yet, but he’d picked it out, found the perfect spot and had all his words prepared, ready to pop the question on their two-year anniversary. Once he decided he was going to do it, it was like he fell more in love with her. Every time he saw her, he pictured her beaming in white, his _fiancée_ and then his _wife_.

And then, the day before he was going to buy the ring, she left him with some bullshit cliché like _it’s not you, it’s me_.

This is a bad mental path, too. He doesn’t need to think about her, and about all the songs he wrote for her that didn’t bring her back. That was a literal lifetime ago. Now he has Ivy, and Lenny, and a better life than he ever could have dreamed of having with his ex. He was too young to get married back then, anyway.

 _Maybe now I’m too old_ , he thinks. But Justin’s older, and, well, here they are.

He lets his mind wander past the hypothetical proposal. They’d have an indoor wedding — he’s sweating now, and a few guests are not-so-subtly fanning themselves. Sky and Wain as groomsmen, with Juan or Jose or both, depending on Lenny’s side. Maybe he’d ask Manuela to be his best man, or whatever the female version of that is. Ivy could be the flower girl or, if they put it off too long, she could stand up with Lenny. They could invite everyone they’ve ever met and throw a party for the ages. Lenny would like that.

Feid blinks, and Justin and Jen are kissing. If he’d stayed in his own world for thirty seconds longer, he’d be okay, but now he can feel tears building. He pretends to scratch the side of his nose as an excuse to wipe his eye. Behind him, Sky lets out a little snort. He knows.

Another moment later, they’re following Justin and Jen back down the aisle — Justin’s brother with Jen’s older sister, Lenny with Jen’s younger sister, Feid with Jen’s college roommate, Sky with Marina. The bridesmaid’s hand is light on Feid’s arm. Maybe she thinks Lenny is the jealous type.

“You okay?” she asks, voice low, glancing sideways at Feid.

“Weddings,” he says, and that seems to be enough of an explanation. She softens and nods. And when Ivy whisper-shouts _Papi! Cucho!_ and waves just as frantically at them as she did at Juliana, everyone laughs again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter twenty-two title from [don’t leave me alone](%E2%80%9C).


	23. i’d be lucky to hold you for life [abr 2030]

“I’m _not_ dancing with you.”

“Please.” Lenny tries to make a pleading face, but the puppy-dog eyes are really Feid’s specialty. He can already tell it’s not working, so he tries a different tactic. “Come on. Just one song.”

Feid shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Not on a dance floor.”

Lenny sighs. The floor is mostly full of kids right now, anyway, Ivy probably among them. Hopefully among them. Lenny hasn’t seen her in a minute, he realizes, but he’s not as worried as he would usually be. He knows almost everyone here, and Ivy isn’t much of a wanderer. She’ll come find them if she needs something.

His body itching to move, he tries one more time. “One dance. I promised Justin I wouldn’t do anything.”

“So don’t do anything,” Feid says. Before Lenny can retort, Feid’s gaze shifts up and past him. “Hey, Juan.”

“Am I interrupting?” Juan asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. He falls into the chair beside Lenny and leans back.

“Yes,” Lenny says, at the same time Feid says, “No.”

Feid raises his eyebrows at Lenny, then repeats, “No. Where’s Jose?”

“Right here,” Jose says, claiming a seat next to Juan. “You two aren’t going to dance? Your kid’s out there giving lessons — you taught her well, Lenny.”

Lenny shoots Feid what he hopes is a significant look. Feid just rolls his eyes. “Maybe Jen’s sister will dance with me,” Lenny says, just because he knows it will annoy Feid. From the corner of his eye, he can see Juan and Jose trade a definitely-significant look.

“You don’t even know her name,” Feid says lightly.

That’s true. He’s not sure if Feid knows it, either, but he decides not to risk a lie. Instead, he turns to Juan and Jose. “My own date won’t dance with me. Can you believe this?”

“A tragedy,” Jose says.

“How much have you had to drink?” Juan asks.

“Enough,” Feid answers for him. He reaches for Lenny’s glass, but Lenny gets there first, finishing the wine in one quick swallow. He’s not drunk. A little buzzed, maybe, but not drunk enough for his friends to be looking at him like that. He just wants to dance with Feid — is that a crime?

He almost says that last part out loud, but they’re interrupted again by another pair of voices.

“There they are.”

“Lenny, did you know your daughter is giving dance lessons?”

Justin and Jen. Lenny stands up quickly — maybe a little too quickly, though he’s not drunk — and the others follow suit. “I heard,” he says to Jen. She laughs.

They offer the standard _congratulations_ , the _you-look-so-beautiful_ s to Jen. At most weddings, Lenny is at least partially lying, but today it’s true. She really is stunning. His mind tries to flash back to his own wedding, the way it’s tried to do every ten minutes or so all day, but he fights it off.

“You okay, man?” Justin asks.

“He’s upset his date won’t dance with him,” Jose offers, and Feid laughs.

Lenny forces a shrug and a half-smile. He knows he’s being teased, but at least that’s easier than trying to explain the other thoughts that are lurking in the back of his brain. “I just want one dance,” he says for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Oh, Feid,” Jen says. “One dance?”

Feid looks from Jen to Justin to Lenny, then back to Jen. He won’t say no to her. “If the right song comes on,” he concedes. And then, to Justin, “He promised he wouldn’t ‘do anything.’”

“That’s right,” Justin says. Lenny just nods. He’s not in the mood to show off now, anyway — and it sounds like his daughter is handling that for him on her own.

Jen turns to Juan and Jose. “And what about you two? One dance?”

“Oh, uh,” Juan stammers.

“We’re not,” Jose starts.

“We’re…”

Jen furrows her brow. “I’m sorry. I thought you came together. Maybe I’m —”

“No, no,” Juan says. “We did. But, uh, not like that. We’re just friends.” Jose nods emphatically. Maybe a little too emphatically.

Justin laughs. “That’s what they said,” he says, indicating Lenny and Feid. All four — Feid, Lenny, Juan, and Jose — blush hard. Jen elbows her husband, and he laughs again. “Sorry, sorry. I’m kidding. It’s fine. Go have your one dance. We have to go say hello to, uh…” He scans the room. “...everyone.”

And then they’re gone, and then Juan and Jose make their own excuses as if they didn’t just sit down uninvited in the first place, and then Lenny and Feid are alone. Lenny almost says something about his one dance, but it comes out as, “I love you.”

Feid looks surprised and a little suspicious — he was probably expecting _one dance_ too. “I love you, too,” he says.

As if on cue, the song changes. It’s an old one, one Lenny and Feid both love, slow and romantic and perfect for one dance. Lenny glances over his shoulder toward the DJ’s table, half-expecting Juan or Jose standing there requesting the song, but the only one hovering nearby is Sky. When he turns back, Feid is smiling slightly.

“Fine,” is all Feid says.

They’re not the only adults on the dance floor, but they’re definitely outnumbered by the children. Ivy is, in fact, giving dance lessons, too focused to bother with her dads. Lenny feels a swell of pride. No question whose child she is.

Lenny leads Feid in a pseudo ballroom step, no proper dance but good enough. They’re close now, and that’s all Lenny really wanted. He can feel Feid’s breath on his neck, can feel the breath change more than actually hearing the words as Feid sings along softly. Lenny pulls him closer.

He imagines the two of them dancing like this again. Not _one dance_ but _first dance_ , at their own wedding, not to this song but maybe to one like it. All their friends and family here. Finally, officially, a promise that this is the real thing.

Not that a wedding automatically means that a relationship will last forever. Lenny knows that. And maybe it’s too late now for them to bother getting married — they’ve been together almost seven years, they have a child, and they’re in love. Do they really need a party and a piece of paper to prove it?

But suddenly, swaying here with their arms around each other, Lenny _wants_ to marry Feid. Wants it badly. He wants it worse than he’s ever wanted anything or anyone, even the woman he actually _did_ marry so long ago. He never imagined himself having a second wedding, let alone having a husband, but now he wants it so badly it’s almost a need.

If he could propose right here and now, he would. But he can’t, so instead he leans back half an inch, just far enough that Feid meets his eye to try to see if something’s wrong.

Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s right. Lenny kisses Feid, his best friend, the love of his life, and thinks about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter twenty-three title from [señorita (come dance with me)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=baoIWFTXTgo).


	24. esta noche no te quedes solo [ago 2030]

“Smile, Papi,” Ivy commands. When Feid turns around, Lenny is posing in front of a large glass sculpture that looks vaguely like a flower. He’s not smiling.

“I am smiling,” he says.

“You’re not,” Ivy insists. “You have to smile.” She’s brandishing her new camera, an early birthday gift from Tío Gian, threateningly in Lenny’s direction.

Tío Gian is here, too, since this is technically a work trip. Ivy turns to him for backup, but he just shrugs. “He doesn’t _have to_ smile.” He points his own camera at Lenny and fires off three quick shots.

Feid laughs. Ivy still says she wants to be a singer-dancer-astronaut-princess when she grows up, but Gian is already teaching her the basics of photography and videography, and Sky is determined to have her name next to the word “remix” before she hits third grade. God only knows what else her army of babysitters will teach her by the time she has to choose a college major.

Lost in thought, Feid nearly walks directly into a large koi pond. Lenny catches him by the arm before he can take the last step. “Where are you going?”

“Uh,” Feid says. “Just trying to, uh. Get a closer look at the lily pads.”

“Mhm,” Lenny says, unconvinced. He doesn’t let go of Feid’s arm, but his grip loosens.

“Are you having fun?” Feid asks.

“Mm,” Lenny says again, making a _so-so_ gesture. There’s a smile in his eyes, though, and that’s good enough. At least Ivy is thoroughly enjoying herself, following Gian around and taking pictures of all the prettiest flowers.

Feid had thought it would be harder to talk Lenny into this little botanical garden adventure. He thought he’d have to play the “birthday” card, since they’re calling their whole week in New York a combined birthday-anniversary-work trip. He knows this isn’t Lenny’s idea of a good time.

But he’d barely had to push at all — he’d mentioned it once, Lenny said _mm_ the same way he just did a second ago, and then he said yes. Feid was almost disappointed to miss the chance to convince him. Lenny didn’t argue when Feid mentioned Gian tagging along, either. He was probably just glad to have another pair of eyes on Ivy.

It really is beautiful here. Even Lenny can recognize that. When he thinks no one’s looking, he even reads the informational signs along the path, though he’s still trying to play it cool. _Mm_ might be an understatement.

Lenny seems almost nervous, though; every time their eyes meet, Lenny glances away like a kid who just got caught staring at his crush. Now, face-to-face, Lenny is looking at Feid with soft eyes. Feid is nervous, too, but he hopes Lenny can’t see it.

“I love you,” Feid tries, just to break the silence.

“I love you, too,” Lenny says. He finally lets go of Feid’s arm. He sticks his hand in one pocket, then the other, finally pulling out his phone. “Sorry,” he says, “my mother won’t stop texting me.”

Feid’s phone keeps vibrating, too, probably with texts from his own mother, but he won’t tell Lenny that right now. “Why?”

“Oh,” Lenny says. “You know. Nervous about New York. You’d think she’d be used to us traveling by now.”

“Yeah.” Feid forces a laugh. Lenny is being weird. Maybe he knows, or at least senses, what’s coming. Feid reaches his fingers into his own pocket, and of course it’s still there. All good. As long as he doesn’t walk into any more ponds.

Lenny takes Feid’s hand and squeezes it. “Come on. I think our photographers are ready to leave us behind.”

The four of them wind through seemingly-endless tunnels of color, pinks and blues and yellows and a billion shades of green. Ivy reads all the names of the plants out loud, and they sound like spells. _Heliotrope. Chrysanthemum. Zantedeschia._ Feid leans into Lenny, the flowers’ perfume intoxicating.

And then Ivy says, “Hey, that’s me!”

The adults all laugh. “Close enough,” Gian says.

Lenny lifts his daughter up so she can get a closer look at the creeping vines tangled on the wall. “You’re Ivy.” _Ee-vee._ “And that’s ivy.” _Eye-vee._ “So, yeah, close enough.”

“And I’m Ivy ’cause I’m the queen,” Ivy says. “Let me read the sign.”

Lenny sets her down, and she reads the sign out loud slowly. “English Ivy is the most commonly planted ivy plant in North America and Europe. It has glossy dark green lobed fol-i-age, with the a- ab- _ability_ to grow as tall or long as 100 feet. In t- tr- Papi, what’s this word?”

“Traditional,” Lenny says. Then he adds, “Victorian.”

“In traditional Victorian flower language, the ivy s- si-” Ivy sighs dramatically. “Papi, help.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please. Help please.”

Lenny takes over reading the sign. “In traditional Victorian flower language, ivy symbolizes friendship, fidelity, and marriage.”

Maybe it’s Feid’s imagination, but he’s pretty sure he hears Lenny’s voice catch on the last word. He can feel Gian looking at him, but he won’t make eye contact with either him or Lenny. From the corner of his eye, he can see Lenny staring at the sign, unmoving.

He was going to wait until they reached the rose garden. That was the plan. But this is too perfect. Feid nods almost imperceptibly.

“Hey, Ivy Queen, why don’t you take Papi and Cucho’s photo with the other ivy?” Gian suggests. “Then I’ll take another one of all of you. Family portraits.”

Ivy nods and hops over to stand beside Gian. Lenny and Feid position themselves in front of the green wall, arms around each other. Ivy snaps a couple of pictures, then Gian whispers something to her and she nods. Feid takes a deep breath and turns toward Lenny.

“Lenny,” he says. He has the strange feeling that he should use Lenny’s “real” name, his legal name, but that doesn’t feel right. He just repeats, “Lenny.”

“Yes?”

“I love you,” he says, but that’s not really what he wanted to say. He has to do it. There’s nothing left but to just do it. “Lenny, I love you, and…”

By the time Feid drops to one knee, Lenny is already shaking his head. He looks on the verge of tears, or maybe laughter, or maybe both. Why is he shaking his head? Disbelief, Feid hopes. Not a no.

He presses on. He pulls the ring box out of his pocket and holds it up to Lenny, half-open. Almost as much as he hopes Lenny says yes, he hopes he likes the ring. He tried to pick a simple one that would go well with the other rings that Lenny likes to wear, all silver and diamonds, but he made sure he’d be able to exchange it, too. Just in case.

“Lenny, I love you,” he says again, “and I’m so blessed that you’ve let me raise Ivy with you for all this time. You two are the best thing that ever happened to me.” Feid swallows hard. His vision blurs, then sharpens. He’s a little dizzy. “Will you please do me the honor of making it official?”

Silence. Another wave of dizziness. And Lenny, looking down on Feid with an unreadable expression, is still shaking his head. “Salo,” he finally says. “Stand up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter twenty-four title from [acompáñame](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qg3474rVCpo).


	25. no tengas miedo acompáñame [ago 2030]

Feid stands up slowly. He doesn’t take Lenny’s offered hand. He’s still holding the ring box. “Is that a no?” he asks softly.

Lenny isn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “No,” he says, then realizes how it sounds. “It’s —”

The words won’t come, so he shakes his head again. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small black box, almost identical to the one in Feid’s hand but not quite. Feid blinks, his mouth open. “What…”

Gian figures it out before Feid does. Lenny can hear him suppressing laughter, probably trying to keep his camera steady. He must be thrilled. Even if they weren’t famous, this is practically guaranteed to go viral. Lenny should get down on one knee, too, just to complete the cycle.

He doesn’t, though. He just says, “I was going to wait for the rose garden.”

“So was I,” Feid replies, his voice hoarse. He blinks again, then breaks into a wide grin. He throws his arms around Lenny and kisses him hard. Lenny pulls him closer.

After a moment, Lenny breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to Feid’s. “That’s a yes,” he says.

“Yes,” Feid laughs.

Lenny realizes suddenly that he’s still holding the ring box — his ring box, the one he bought. He pulls away from Feid and offers it to him. “I, uh. I bought two. So you’re not — so you wouldn’t be…” He trails off. Feid is covering his eyes, his shoulders shaking. “You didn’t,” Lenny says.

“I did,” Feid says. He opens his box all the way so Lenny can see. A matching pair of rings, silver and diamonds, exactly what Lenny likes. And like their box, they’re almost identical to the ones Lenny bought.

They trade, leaving one ring in each box, still laughing to keep from crying. Feid’s hands are shaking, so Lenny takes them and kisses his fingers. “I can’t believe you beat me to it.”

And that’s the end of Ivy’s attention span. “Are they done kissing yet?” she asks a little too loudly. 

Lenny and Feid laugh together. “Come here,” Lenny says. “Family portraits.”

“Let me see,” Ivy says when she reaches them. Lenny and Feid hold out their hands, and Ivy inspects both rings. “I like this one better,” she declares, pointing to Feid’s finger.

“Ha,” Lenny says.

“Does this mean I get to be a flower girl like Juli?”

Suddenly, Lenny realizes that the pressure isn’t off now that he’s proposed — or rather, now that they’ve proposed. Now they actually have to plan a _wedding_. They’ll have to decide where to host it, and when, and who to invite, and what to wear. Catering. Flowers. A dress for Ivy, though at least they don’t have to worry about a bridal gown.

By the look on Feid’s face, he’s thinking the same thing. “Yes,” he says hesitantly. They’ll discuss it tonight.

They finally turn to smile for the camera, but Lenny’s eyes catch on Feid. His _fiancé_. After a wedding — after _planning_ the wedding, after announcing their engagement, after just making it through the rest of today without his heart bursting — being married to him will be the easy part.

That night, they send Ivy out with Feid’s manager for ice cream, or a movie, or literally anything else that will give them a couple of precious hours alone in their hotel room. They fuck like it’s the first time, like they can’t get enough of each other. The ring is heavy on Lenny’s hand. He still can’t keep his eyes off Feid.

When they’re finished, sweaty and breathing hard, Lenny presses his forehead to Feid’s shoulder. Their legs are still tangled. Feid lazily twists his engagement ring; Lenny can feel the movement in his arm.

“We’re getting married,” Feid says. He almost sounds like he doesn’t believe it.

“Eventually,” Lenny mumbles.

He hadn’t really meant to say it out loud, but it’s not like he doesn’t mean it. They’ve been together so long, they don’t need to hurry to the altar now.

Feid shifts slightly. “Eventually?”

“Never mind,” Lenny says. He rolls over to look at Feid sideways. “We are. It doesn’t matter when. Where do you want to do it? PR, Colombia, or Miami?”

“Where do _you_ want to do it?”

“I’m asking you.”

“Fine,” Feid laughs. “If it’s up to me, Medellín. There’s this amazing castle there and —”

“A castle?” Lenny interrupts. He sits up slightly.

“Yeah.”

“A literal castle?”

“Yes?”

Lenny collapses back into the pillows. “Well, that’s settled, then. Ivy will lose her mind.”

Feid laughs again. He touches Lenny’s chest, tracing the letters on his skin. “I thought you’d push harder for Puerto Rico,” he teases.

“I was going to, until you said castle. Little Miss Singer Dancer Archaeologist Princess won’t let us go anywhere else if she knows that’s an option. Besides, Justin already did the beach wedding thing.”

“Archaeologist? I thought it was astronaut.”

“Astronaut today, archaeologist tomorrow.” Lenny shrugs, but that makes Feid move his hand, and Lenny doesn’t want that. He catches Feid by the wrist and presses his hand into his chest again.

He wonders when he’ll get used to the cold weight of the ring. He’ll forget his own in a day or two, he knows, but Feid’s… Just when he thinks there’s nothing new between them, something small like this manages to surprise him. A lump forms in his throat, but he swallows it.

“A castle in Medellín,” Lenny says.

“And where for our honeymoon?” Feid asks.

Lenny hums. “Depends. How long can we go?”

“As long as you want. A month. A year.”

“We’re not leaving our kid for a year.”

“A month, then. A honey moon.”

Of course Feid knows the literal meaning of “honeymoon.” Lenny loves that about him — all the little things that would drive him crazy in anyone else. They drive him crazy in Feid, too. He wants to say something cheesy like that, _anywhere with you_ or maybe _this bed_ , but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Somewhere with a beach.”

“Puerto Rico,” Feid says.

“Maybe,” Lenny says. _Anywhere with you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter twenty-five title also from [acompáñame](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qg3474rVCpo).


	26. cuéntale que soy mejor que él [sep 2030]

Feid is drinking his way through a creative block on the sofa of Sky’s studio when his phone rings. He sits up and squints at the phone. He doesn’t have the number saved, but it’s Miami-local, and it seems vaguely familiar — could be Ivy’s school, or one of her friends’ parents. He stands up to take the call out in the hallway.

“Sorry,” Feid says to Sky and the others. Then, into the phone, “Hello?”

“Hey, Feid.”

He freezes with his hand on the doorknob. Suddenly he understands the phrase _blood ran cold_. This has to be a joke, a prank, a dream. He can feel three pairs of eyes staring into his back. He shakes his head, pushes through the door, and steps out of the studio.

“Who is this?”

Laura sighs. “I think you know. I’m sorry for calling — Lenny didn’t pick up.”

“Lenny didn’t pick up?” Feid snorts. “I wonder why not. I know he’d love to talk to you.”

He knows he’s being cruel, but he can’t seem to help it. Even now, even on _I’m sorry_ , her voice is flat and cold. Feid wonders, not for the first time, if Laura is on drugs. Not like meth or heroin, but the kind beautiful rich people use to keep smiling. Xanax. Or maybe coke.

“I know he doesn’t want to talk to me. You probably don’t, either.” Laura hears it before Feid can call her on it. “No, not ‘probably.’ You definitely don’t.”

“Well, that’s right.”

“I just wanted to say congratulations.”

Feid touches his ring with his thumb. “Thank you,” he says cautiously.

“You two look really happy. You three, actually. Ivy, too. She looks just like Lenny. From the photos.”

“Yeah,” Feid says. He squeezes his eyes shut. He thinks he knows where this conversation is going; he wants to just hang up on her, block her number, never breathe another word of this call. But even when he’s feeling cruel, he’s still too damn nice. He doesn’t hang up.

“You know,” Laura says, “I haven’t spoken to Lenny since you came to pick up Ivy’s stuff. Not a word. He won’t take my calls. He has me blocked on Instagram — I’ve only seen my daughter from tabloid sites. And your page.”

_My daughter._ The words feel like someone cut out his heart with a pair of scissors. Legally and biologically, Ivy is Laura’s daughter, not Feid’s. He tries not to thinking about that, though it always lurks in the back of his mind. Now, said out loud so starkly, he feels like the house he’s built is standing on sand.

No. It’s been seven years. He and Lenny are _engaged_. Ivy loves him, Lenny loves him. And Feid may not be Ivy’s father, but Lenny is. Even if Laura wants to try to take her back, she can’t do it that easily.

And he’s getting ahead of himself, anyway. She hasn’t said she wants to take Ivy back. In fact, she hasn’t said anything, and neither has Feid. “Why are you telling me this?”

Laura hesitates. She doesn’t answer the question. Instead, she asks, “Does she know about me?”

For the first time maybe ever, Feid hears genuine emotion in Laura’s voice. He nearly doubles over, but manages to lean back against the wall and stay upright. He takes a shaky breath.

“Yes,” he says. It’s not a hundred percent true, but it’s not a hundred percent a lie, either. Ivy doesn’t ask, apparently content with their kindergarten explanation of mommies and daddies; she knows that somewhere out there is a mommy, but she doesn’t seem to have any interest in the details.

“Good,” Laura says. Then she repeats, softer, “Good.”

Feid swallows hard. “Laura, what do you want from me? Did you really just call to say congratulations?”

To his surprise, she says, “Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Are you going to tell Lenny I called?”

“Probably.”

“Good. Tell him… I don’t know. Tell him something. I guess, like, remind him I exist. Tell him I’m doing better now. She really does look exactly like him…”

She says the last part more to herself than to Feid, but before he can respond, there’s a _click_ , and he’s breathing into dead air. He pulls his phone away from his ear slowly and stares at its blank screen as if it might explain what just happened. He considers texting Lenny right then and there, but decides against it.

When he goes back into the studio, Wain and Sebas are laughing, Sky shaking his head and pretending to focus on his computer. When they see Feid, though, the laughter dies.

“You okay, man?” Sebas asks.

Feid nods and reclaims his spot on the couch. His notebook page is still blank. He hopes they don’t ask who called; he doesn’t want to tell them, doesn’t want to lie to them, but he doesn’t want to say _no one_ , either. She exists.

The producers are talking again, but Feid isn’t listening. He types a message to Lenny, then deletes it. Opens Instagram, types “L” into the search, then closes the app. His phone feels dangerous right now, like it might ring again at any moment.

He sets the phone down and picks up his pen. The only words in his head are Laura’s, though. Like it has a mind of its own, his hand writes, _felicidades_ , and then _ni una palabra_ , and then _I exist_. It writes _I exist_ again, underlined twice. _Yo existo, ella existe._

And then it writes _better_ , and then _mejor_ and _mejor_ again. That word sparks a memory, which sparks another one. An old song, then an older one. He builds a line around _mejor_ , which turns into a verse. His friends are still talking.

“Sky,” Feid interrupts. “Play that beat again. I think I’ve got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter twenty-six title from [dile](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zODmu06pqvg).


	27. escuché tu voz en mis notas de voz [oct 2030]

Lenny’s arm is starting to get tired from holding the phone up, but he doesn’t want to move. He doesn’t even know what Feid is saying now; he’s just listening to his voice without absorbing the words. Lying here in yet another identical hotel room makes him miss his own bed.

“Lenny,” Feid says, “are you listening to me?”

“Yes,” Lenny lies.

“What was I saying?”

“That I’m your favorite person in the world and you love me.”

Feid shakes his head, but at least he’s smiling. “Yes, but no. When you get home, you need to sign this thing for Ivy’s school. They took my signature for now but they said it’s important to get yours.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Something about legal guardianship.” Feid sighs. “This isn’t a long-distance conversation.”

“No, it’s not. I’m home in a week; we’ll discuss it then.” Lenny rolls onto his side and tucks one arm under his head. Feid glances up over the camera and nods once — probably Ivy asking for something. When he turns his attention back to Lenny, Lenny asks, “How’s the song coming?”

Feid squints and scratches his head. “It’s okay.”

“Just okay?”

“I mean… it’s mostly done. I think. I don’t know.”

It’s not like Feid to be so uncertain. A song is either done — at least done enough to post-and-delete a preview for his fans — or not done. Lenny doesn’t think he’s _ever_ heard “mostly done.” He doesn’t reply. He just waits for Feid to say more.

“Can you listen to what I have?”

“Of course,” Lenny says. He sits up again and adjusts his earbuds. This isn’t the first time Feid has asked him to listen to an unfinished song, but it’s rare; he’s determined to help any way he can this time. 

Feid clicks around then, after confirming that Lenny is ready, plays the song. Lenny listens with his eyes closed, but even through the camera, he can feel Feid watching him.

Every time Lenny hears Feid’s voice on a new song, it feels like the first time. No matter the lyrics, no matter if the beat is reggaetón or R&B or salsa, when Feid starts singing, Lenny’s chest tightens and his breath catches. Every time. Maybe he’s always been a little bit in love with Feid.

Now, fully in love with him, he tries to listen carefully and not get too distracted. The beat is definitively Sky’s, strong, vaguely mambo-tinged in this one. Feid sings _mejor_ and _mejor_ again, _otra noche otra_ , _ni una palabra_. Lenny listens.

And then it ends. Lenny keeps his eyes closed. And Feid says, “I think it’s missing something.”

“I agree.”

“I was thinking of calling Rafe.”

“Rafe,” Lenny echoes. He opens his eyes, but Feid isn’t looking at him now.

“Or maybe Jose. I don’t know.”

Lenny doesn’t say anything. He knew Feid wouldn’t ask him to be on the song; the last time they tried to collaborate, Feid’s frustration with Lenny’s procrastination almost spelled the end of their professional and romantic relationships. Feid ended up doing the song with some cheap knockoff of Lenny, and Lenny scraped together a verse for a feature on one of their friends’ albums, but they could hardly look at each other for two days after giving up on the collab.

But that was a year ago. And a verse is already forming in Lenny’s head — or at least a line or two.

“I could —” he starts.

“No,” Feid interrupts.

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“No, we’re not doing that again. I’d really like to finish this one this year. And I don’t want to fight with you again.”

Lenny swallows hard. “One more shot.”

“No.”

“I already have an idea.” Lenny hums a little, and Feid finally looks at him. “And you know I write better in the air. I have, like, four more flights before I get home.”

Feid studies Lenny’s face. Lenny can see the wheels turning in his head, considering it. He tries to look serious, but what he really wants is to get up, run to the desk, and jot down these few lines before he loses them.

“Fine,” Feid says at last. “If you can have a verse ready by the time you get home, we’ll record it and see what happens. One more shot, okay?”

“Okay,” Lenny says. He grins, and Feid actually manages to smile back. “Okay. I can do it. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“I love you,” Lenny says.

“I love you, too. I have to go — Ivy wants a ride to Itzel’s. I’ll send you the beat when I get home.”

“Okay. Thank you. Tell Ivy I love her, too.”

“I will.”

They end the call, and Lenny opens his Notes app to catch his floating lines. Written out, it’s not as much as it seemed in his head, but it’s a start. The song had reminded him of something else, though, and he thinks he may be able to recycle another partial verse that came to him out of nowhere a few months ago.

He taps over to his voice notes, pretty sure he recorded it then. His notes are a mess, nothing labeled, but he recognizes most of them by their dates and locations. He scrolls, hoping he’ll find the one he’s looking for.

One he doesn’t recognize catches his eye, though. It’s dated a couple of weeks ago, just before he left on tour, and it’s nearly four minutes long. He presses play — maybe listening to a few seconds will jog his memory. Or maybe it was recorded by accident.

Itzel’s voice: “One, two —”

And then Ivy’s: “Wait!”

“What?”

“Are you going to do the other part?”

“Ha! No way. You can do it. You can fix it later if you have to, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay. Ready? One, two, three, go.”

And then Ivy is singing. Lenny has heard her sing before, of course, but never like this — strong, clear, serious. She’s singing an old Ivy Queen song from before Lenny and Feid even met, covering both parts of a duet as best she can.

It’s not perfect, of course; she’s almost eight, and her voice is still childish and unpolished. But Lenny’s eyes widen as he listens. It’s beautiful. If he had known she liked to sing like this…

Suddenly, an idea strikes him. He jumps back to his Notes app and slams out a few more typo-riddled lines. It doesn’t matter — he’ll know what he meant later. Right now, he just needs to get the ideas down. He hums as he writes, trying to hold onto the beat in his head.

Once his fingers have caught up with his brain, he closes Notes and writes a text to Feid. “I think I’ve got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter twenty-seven title from [fotografías](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8c1alEjg7P4).


	28. sabes que es tuyo mi corazón [nov 2030]

Ivy’s brow furrows as she tears into the paper on the next present. She turns the box over in her hands. Feid, along with the rest of the guests, lean in to see what it is. Suddenly, Ivy’s face lights up and she screams.

“Thank you!” she cries. She leaps up, leaving the present behind, and hugs Sky tightly. “This is the best gift ever.” He laughs and hugs her back.

Feid cranes his neck to read the label on the box, but he must need new glasses — he can’t make it out. Lenny catches his eye and shrugs. On his notepad, Feid puts three question marks next to Sky’s name. He’ll look at it more closely later so Ivy can write a proper thank-you.

She reclaims her seat at the center of attention and Lenny hands her another card. Ivy isn’t careful opening the gifts or the envelopes, but her joy is so pure and genuine that it doesn’t even matter. Even for toys she already owns, clothes sent from faraway family, cards with nothing in them, she’s happy. Either she has the best poker face in the world, or Feid and Lenny have done a good job teaching her about gratitude. Feid hopes it’s the latter.

Feid tries to make clear notes about each present, but his eyes keep wandering back to the green envelope on the table. Every time Lenny’s hand passes over it, Feid’s grip on his pen tightens. What is he waiting for? Feid tries to signal with his eyes that anytime is good, it’s their turn, but Lenny won’t look at him.

The song playing over their speakers changes, and Feid hums along as he writes. He wonders whether Lenny is as nervous as he is. He shouldn’t be, he knows; Ivy will love their gift just as much as she’s loved everything else. But he still keeps staring at that envelope.

Finally, _finally_ , Lenny picks it up. “This is from me and Cucho,” he says as he hands it to her. Ivy grins at them both and takes it.

She’s marginally more careful opening this envelope. It’s square, large in her hands, and she tears into it from the top. She pulls out the card and examines it for a moment. “Did Tía Manu do this?” she asks Feid. He nods. “What’s ‘mejor que yo?’” 

“Turn it over,” Lenny says.

Ivy does. “A barcode?”

“We need Cucho’s phone,” Lenny says. Feid passes it over, his hand to Juan’s to Jose’s to Lenny’s to Ivy’s. 

The moment she scans the barcode, her face changes. Curiosity turns to surprise and confusion, already with the hint of a smile emerging.

“What is it?” Itzel asks, and a few other kids echo them with their own questions.

“I don’t know,” Ivy says. “It’s a song. This is the cover art.” She holds up the card, then reads from the phone, “ _Mejor Que Yo_ , by Feid, featuring Lenny Tavárez and… Ivy Princesa?”

“Play it,” Feid says. It comes out softly, but even from the other side of the room, she hears him. She hits play.

Ivy’s eyes widen as her own voice comes out of the speakers. She looks first at Feid, then Lenny, then Itzel, who just shrugs. The room is absolutely silent except for the song coming out of the speakers.

_Dime que no pudo más que yo  
Tú eres mi reina, mi amor  
Dime que ella no es mejor que yo…_

And then Lenny, Feid, Lenny and Feid together, Lenny and Feid and Ivy together. Feid stares down at the notebook, the names swimming in front of his eyes. He will _not_ cry. This is the first time he’s heard the finished song in its entirety — he trusted Sky and Wain to finish it — and it’s more beautiful than he’d even dared to hope. If he looks at Lenny, Ivy, or anyone else now, he’ll lose it.

But when Lenny sings _y yo soy mejor que yo_ , a line that killed Feid the first time he heard it and kills him now, a single tear drops onto the page and blurs someone’s name. He wipes the second tear quickly and hopes no one notices.

The song ends with Ivy, a capella: _Tú eres y serás la única mujer en mi vida._

When Feid manages to look up again, the whole room is looking at Ivy. She stares at the card in her hands. For a moment, Feid fears that she didn’t like it. Maybe she wasn’t ready for all her friends — and the rest of the world — to hear her voice like that. Maybe they should have played it for her alone first before publishing it.

Then a smile breaks across her face. She looks up at Feid. “Thank you, Cucho.” Then to Lenny, “Thank you.” Then to Sky, “Sorry, Tío Sky, but _this_ is the best present ever.”

The whole room laughs. “He produced it,” Lenny stage-whispers.

“Oh! Thank you!”

“And Itzel’s credited as a recording engineer,” Sky adds.

Suddenly, it seems like everyone is talking at once. The kids bombard Ivy with questions and compliments while Ivy basks in the attention, and the adults murmur to each other and — apparently — look up the song on their own phones. Feid scratches the corner of his eye to cover wiping away another tear.

And then Lenny is at his side. “I told you she’d love it,” he says.

“Yeah, you did,” Feid says. He lets Lenny kiss him on the cheek, then leans into him. “She’s already a star.”

“She’s going to love fame.”

“No doubt. She’ll be good at it.”

“I hope so.” Feid rests his head on Lenny’s shoulder. They watch Ivy hold court among her friends while _Mejor Que Yo_ plays over the speakers again. Ivy Princesa, beloved by all.

Lenny kisses the top of Feid’s head. “We’re a pretty good team.”

“When you manage to finish something,” Feid says, but he takes Lenny’s hand and squeezes it as he says it.

“When you learn to wait for me,” Lenny shoots back, but Feid can feel his smile.

Lenny was right to save their gift until nearly the end; the last few envelopes lie forgotten on the table. They’ll have to bring out the cake soon to get everyone back on track, but for now, Feid is content to sit here with Lenny and watch their daughter play. _Eight years old and already a star,_ he thinks. By nine, she’ll be queen of the world.

They should’ve listed her name first in the song credits. It’s her life, featuring Lenny and Feid. Feid can feel the tears coming on again, but he fights them off. He wouldn’t have this any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter twenty-eight title from [cosas de la vida](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZsnuyTHAOdU).


	29. hay quien tiene todo, todo lo que quiere [dic 2030]

As soon as Mamá Lucia’s back is turned, Lenny checks his phone for the millionth time. His family group chat has been nearly silent all day, and he’s starting to get worried. He knows they’re probably busy cooking, but his sisters haven’t sent him even one selfie, and no one replied to his picture of Ivy sitting on her hands to avoid touching the presents under the tree. Maybe there’s something wrong with the cell reception here.

“Lenny!” Mamá Lucia cries. Lenny jumps and looks up just in time to flip the latest batch of arepas before they burn beyond salvaging. So there are a few a little darker than the rest; no big deal. Feid’s endless parade of cousins will eat them anyway.

Still, he says, “Sorry, Mamá,” and puts his phone away. From the other side of the kitchen, Manuela snorts.

“Go help Salo with the decorations,” Mamá Lucia says, taking the spatula out of Lenny’s hand and pushing him gently. “Manu can take over here. And send Jorge in here if you see him, will you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“But I’m —” Manu starts, but Lenny ducks out of the kitchen before he can hear the rest of her protest.

He takes a deep breath as soon as he crosses the threshold. The house is warm, already bustling with the aunts and uncles and cousins who arrived early, but the kitchen is ten degrees warmer and ten decibels louder than anywhere else. In this brief moment of solitude, Lenny checks his phone again.

Nothing.

Lenny wonders whether he’ll ever get used to this alternating schedule. It’s Feid’s year, and they’ll go back to PR at New Year’s, but it still feels wrong not to see his own parents and sisters at Christmas. He’ll have to FaceTime them on Wednesday night so Ivy can show off all her presents.

A text comes in. He opens it quickly, but it’s just Patricia sending pictures of Zara and the twins baking Christmas cookies. Cute, but not what he was hoping for. And now he knows the cell service works.

Lenny should find Feid. If Mamá Lucia catches him still standing here, she’ll put him back to work in the kitchen, and he’ll probably burn the house down.

Even with the low roar of voices in every corner of the house, Lenny picks out Feid’s laugh and follows it to the front entryway. Feid is halfway up a ladder, pinning lights and tinsel where the wall meets the ceiling, his father at the base of the ladder handing up each piece.

“Hi, Lenny. Did Lucia have you working in the kitchen?” Papá Jorge says when he sees him.

Lenny nods. “Yes, sir. She wanted to see you, actually. I could…?” He holds out his hand for the tinsel, and Papá Jorge hands it over gratefully.

“Good luck getting it untangled. Whoever packed it last year must have just thrown it into the box.”

“I think that was you, Dad,” Feid says without looking down from the light he’s fiddling with.

Papá Jorge laughs. “I don’t think so. I should go see what your mother wants. You boys be good.”

Once his father is gone, Feid shakes his head. “‘You boys be good,’” he echoes, “like we’re teenagers.”

“We could be,” Lenny grins. “Never too old to sneak away from the party and make out, right?” He lets his hand brush Feid’s as he hands the next strand of tinsel up to him. “They won’t even notice we’re gone.”

“As tempting as that is, remember that we’re sharing a room with our daughter.”

“Who said anything about going to our own room?”

Feid gives up on the lights, leaning his elbows on the top of the ladder to look down at Lenny. “You want to fuck in a closet, or what? There’s about to be like thirty people here. We don’t have a ton of options for places to hide.”

“Thirty?” Lenny runs through his mental list of Feid’s family. Even with the seven of them — himself and Feid and Ivy, Manuela and her boyfriend, and Feid’s parents — and everyone who’s already here, he can only come up with twenty or twenty-five. He must be forgetting a family group.

“I said _like_ thirty.” Feid shrugs and returns to his work. “More or less.”

Lenny checks his phone again while Feid adjusts the tinsel. Still nothing from his family, though his friends group chat is now full of pictures of everyone’s children doing adorable Christmassy things. Lenny sends the picture of Ivy sitting on her hands, but sticks his phone back in his pocket instead of reading any of the replies.

“You okay?” Feid asks.

Lenny passes him another string. “Fine. Homesick, that’s all.”

“Mm,” Feid says. “I think you’ll feel better soon.”

“What?”

“Just a feeling. Are you even trying to untangle these before you give them to me?”

He’s not. Lenny looks down at the knot in his hand. As soon as he starts loosening it, though, he’s startled by a knock at the door. He looks up at Feid, who looks equally surprised. “They’re early,” Feid says. “Can you get that?”

Lenny hands him the knotted lights and heads for the door. He can already hear the welcoming committee — the herd of little-kid cousins, including Ivy — thundering toward them. He silently apologizes to whoever’s at the door, wondering whether they know what they’re walking into.

But when Lenny opens the door, he freezes. His own mother is smiling back at him, and his father and his sisters, all looking like it’s completely normal and expected for them to be standing on this doorstep in Medellín two days before Christmas. 

Before he can overthink it, Lenny falls into his mother’s arms. She hugs him tightly. “Merry Christmas,” she says into his ear.

“Can we come in, or are you just going to make us stand out here?” Gab asks. Lenny laughs and steps back to let them inside.

Within moments, the entryway is full of family, parents and sisters and children, all greeting each other and hugging and laughing and wishing each other merry Christmas. Lenny touches Michelle’s arm and pulls her off to the side.

“Care to explain?”

Michelle grins. “Salo invited us. He said you were so homesick when you were here two years ago, he didn’t want to deal with that again. So here we are.” She holds out her arms.

“He said that?”

“Well, not exactly like that. But aren’t you happy to see us?”

He is. Lenny is so happy that he could cry — if he weren’t surrounded by Feid’s family and his own. It’s not even Christmas Day yet, and he’s already gotten the best possible present. “I love you,” he says to Michelle, but it’s really for the room at large. All the people he loves most in the world are together under one roof. It’s chaotic already, but if this chaos becomes their new tradition, Lenny will be perfectly content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter twenty-nine title from [cantares de navidad](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T92wmgRIhno).
> 
> chapter title from el último tour del mundo because this is el último capítulo del año! i'm taking december off to rest and work on other projects, but i'll be back with weekly chapters in january. i'm not saying there _won't_ be [yo la radio](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25973965/chapters/63143083) chapters in december, but i'm not making any promises, either...


	30. la música habla por mí [feb 2031]

Feid rests his forehead against the cool wood of Ivy’s bedroom door. “Ivy,” he says. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”

“I’m not going!” Ivy wails.

“Yes, you are.” Feid tries the knob, but the door is locked. He knew letting her get a lock was a bad idea, but Lenny said yes — now Lenny should be the one standing here hostage-negotiating. But Lenny is on the phone with God knows who, so Feid tries again. “I promise it will be easy. You’re going to love it.”

“I don’t want to,” Ivy says.

“Ivy, can you just let me in?”

“No!”

Feid runs a hand down his face. He checks his watch; they’re not going to be late, not yet, but they’re running out of time before they need to leave. “Ivy, please. Just let me talk to you. Listen to me for five minutes, and if you still don’t want to go, you don’t have to go.”

“No. Do it without me.”

Only one thing left to try. “Would you rather talk to Papi?”

Ivy doesn’t respond to that. Through the door, Feid can feel her thinking it over. He wants to say more, add just one more plea, but he knows that silence is his best bet right now. He’s patient. He can wait her out.

The door opens so suddenly that Feid nearly falls onto Ivy. “Come in,” she demands. He goes into the room and sits down on her bed. She closes the door behind him, but doesn’t come sit beside him. She stands in front of the door, arms crossed. “Five minutes,” she says.

“Five minutes.” Feid takes a deep breath. “So tell me. Why don’t you want to go?”

“I just don’t want to.”

That’s a lie. Not only can Feid read Ivy like a book, but she’s also ninety percent dressed. If she really didn’t want to go, Feid knows, she wouldn’t have bothered. That means something must be wrong. He doesn’t say anything; he just looks at her and waits for her to say more.

She shifts from foot to foot. “I have homework.”

“Ivy, you’re in second grade. That excuse isn’t going to work for a few more years.”

“I’m… sick.” Ivy coughs weakly, but even she doesn’t buy that one. Suddenly, her face tightens up like she’s trying not to cry. She dodges Feid’s eye contact, staring up at the ceiling instead.

“Ivy, come here.”

For once, she doesn’t protest. Still not looking at him, she sits down next to him on the bed. “I don’t —” she starts, but as soon as she opens her mouth, the flood starts. Feid puts his arm around her, and she cries into his chest.

“Tell me what’s wrong, reina.”

“I’m scared,” she sobs.

“Oh, no.” He holds her closer and kisses the top of her head. “Baby, it’s okay. It’s normal to be scared. I was so nervous for my first show, I almost cancelled the whole thing. And I was a lot older than you are now. But once the music started, all the nerves just… went away. I bet it was the same for Papi.”

“But what if I forget the song?”

“You won’t forget the song. Even if you do, Papi and I will be right there with you. We can help you.”

Ivy wipes her face. She’s still crying, but at least she’s not shaking with sobs anymore. “What if _you_ forget the song?” A hint of a smile cracks through her tears.

Feid laughs. “Then it’s a good thing we’ll have you there to help _us_ out. Right?”

Ivy doesn’t answer yet. She swallows and looks up at Feid. “How do I know if people like it?”

“Oh, trust me,” Feid says, “you’ll know. It will be like your dance recitals, just with a few more people.” Just then, a memory unburies itself from the back of Feid’s mind. “Do you remember the first time you were on stage with Papi and me?”

“That’s today.”

“No, no. You were about two years old, maybe three. You were supposed to be backstage with Papi’s assistant… I can’t remember her name, but she was supposed to be watching you. But you wanted to be with us. You ran out onto the stage and basically jumped into Papi’s arms.”

Ivy thinks for a moment. “Were there a bunch of cameras?”

“Yes.” Feid smiles, remembering how he and Lenny panicked when Ivy wouldn’t look away from them. “Afterward. An interview. That was the first time our fans saw your face.”

“I think I remember. It was really loud.”

“Yeah. It will be really loud today, too. But you’ll have a little earpiece right here —” He pokes her ear, and she squirms away, giggling. “— where you can hear Tío Wain talking to you. He’ll tell you exactly what to do.”

“I’m —”

A knock at the door interrupts her. “Almost ready?” Lenny calls.

Ivy freezes and looks at Feid. He looks back at her and shrugs. Ivy takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” she says, loud enough for Lenny to hear.

“Okay, great,” Lenny says, ignoring or not hearing the hesitation. “Car will be here in ten minutes. Do you need me to do your hair?”

“In two minutes,” Ivy says.

“Okay.”

Lenny’s footsteps fade, and Ivy turns to Feid again. “I have to finish getting dressed,” she says.

“Yeah, you do.”

“I’m still scared.”

“That’s okay. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah.”

Feid leans in close and says in a low voice, “So am I. I still get nervous. But it’s easier when Papi’s with me, and now it will be even easier with you there, too.”

“Cucho,” Ivy sighs, fake-exasperated, “we can’t _both_ be nervous. We can’t make Papi put up with _both_ of us.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Feid laughs. “So what are we going to do?”

“Hm. I think… we can’t tell him we’re scared. We have to go and do the show and _not_ be scared.”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Feid leaves Ivy to finish getting dressed and tracks down Lenny. He finds him on the balcony, looking out over the ocean. He turns to Feid when he hears the door open. “How is she?” Lenny asks.

“She’ll be fine,” Feid says. He knows he doesn’t really need to hide his nerves — or hers — from Lenny, but he made a promise. He’s sure Lenny knows, anyway. “And how are you?”

“A little nervous,” Lenny says.

Feid shakes his head. “Don’t let Ivy hear you say that.”

As if on cue, Ivy calls out for Lenny to come do her hair. Feid and Lenny both smile. Their little queen, already a diva, even if she does have a touch of stage fright. Lenny kisses Feid quickly and goes to answer her call. He leaves Feid alone on the balcony, humming their song and praying that no one forgets the lyrics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter thirty title from [arriba](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=th3HxoerP8c).


	31. de intentar no me cansaré [mar 2031]

“Jesus fff—”

“Justin!”

“— ffffreak,” Justin finishes through gritted teeth. Lenny snorts, and Justin rolls his eyes. “Not like he can understand me anyway,” he says.

“No,” Jen concedes, cradling newborn Jacob a little closer to her chest, “but the girls can.”

“Do you want to give this a shot?” Justin holds out the screwdriver.

Jen shakes her head. “I think you’ve got it.”

Lenny doesn’t agree. He, Feid, and Justin have been on the floor puzzling over the instructions to Jacob’s crib for the better part of an hour, and he’s pretty sure it’s now in more pieces than when they started. “Why can’t you just use Juli’s?” Lenny asks.

“This _is_ Juli’s,” Justin says. “We took it apart when she outgrew it. So I _know_ it all fits together somehow.” He jams two pieces together, and they fall apart instantly.

“Maybe we should just buy a new one,” Jen says lightly.

“No. I know it works.”

Lenny and Feid trade a glance. At this rate, Jacob will be too big for the crib by the time they finish building it. A new one would be done in minutes, then they could move on to the next too-complicated baby task.

Feid nudges Lenny’s foot with his own. “Remember when we tried to build Ivy’s crib?”

“No,” Lenny lies. He remembers Feid’s voice, ice-cold, insisting that yes they _were_ taking the crib too, even though Laura tried to fight him. He remembers wanting to kill Feid while they built it, but also being unable to stop watching his hands work. And he remembers how Feid held three-month-old Ivy and talked low to her while Lenny took a turn at the assembly.

He doesn’t want to say any of that, though. Maybe it’s futile to pretend like he wasn’t in love with Feid back then, but he can try anyway.

“Liar,” Feid says. “We took turns with it, right? I did a couple of steps while you held Ivy, and then we switched. You had to finish it, though.”

“What do you mean ‘had to?’”

“The last step, I was about to do it, and you practically dropped Ivy on me to take the instructions back. I think you wanted to be able to say that _you_ finished it.”

“Sounds about right,” Justin says. Lenny throws a screw at him. It misses.

Lenny doesn’t remember that part. He _does_ remember being very proud of building the thing, even though Feid did help. That was basically his only job back in those early days, “helping.” The crib, though, was one of the first times Lenny had the solid, conscious thought that he was glad he wasn’t alone.

This crib, on the other hand, has him ready to break something — not that he thinks he could fuck up this thing even more than Justin already has. It’s like the world’s worst jigsaw puzzle, and Lenny doesn’t even like normal jigsaw puzzles. 

“Give me the instructions,” Lenny says, then swipes them out of Justin’s hand. “Okay. This is supposed to attach to — _fu_ —”

As if on cue, Ivy and Juliana barrel into the room, both talking at full-speed. Jen gives Lenny a warning glare, like he’s lucky they cut him off. “Okay, ladies, one at a time,” she says.

Ivy turns to Juli, so Juli says, “We need Mami’s help.”

“What’s the problem?” Justin asks. He’s already halfway up off the floor, ready to spring at an excuse to leave this project for a little while. Feid holds out his hand, and Lenny passes the instructions over.

“The TV upstairs is doing the thing again and I don’t remember how to fix it. Mami can do it.”

Justin shakes his head. “Mami can’t do it while she’s got your brother. I can fix it.”

In the time it takes Justin to stand up all the way, a fully-formed plan emerges in Lenny’s mind. Or half-formed, at least. Enough. He catches Feid’s eye, then Jen’s, trying to communicate with them both telepathically. Jen nods almost imperceptibly, but Feid just raises an eyebrow.

“Why don’t you go with them,” Lenny suggests. “Stretch your legs.”

“I —” Feid starts, but then he seems to sense the message in the air. He slides the instruction booklet back to Lenny and stands up stiffly. “Yeah, you’re right. I should get up for a minute. Justin? Girls?”

Ivy looks at Lenny, but Lenny gives her a _don’t ask_ signal. She shrugs. “Okay, whatever.”

Justin, apparently oblivious to it all, follows Juli out of the nursery. Ivy goes out behind him, then Feid brings up the rear. As soon as he and Jen — and Jacob — are alone, Lenny tosses the booklet aside and pulls out his phone.

“Lenny,” Jen says.

“Already on it,” Lenny says. “How’s this one? Five stars with a few thousand reviews. Same-day shipping if you order within the hour.”

“Does it come with —”

“Yes, ma’am, mattress and sheets, and it’s adjustable. And for fifty dollars more, someone will come in and install it.”

“Buy it,” Jen says. “I’ll get my card.”

“Don’t worry. Consider it a birthday gift for the little one. And… done. It’ll be here by five.” Lenny’s knees creak when he stands; if he’d stayed on the floor for ten minutes longer, he’d likely be stuck there for the rest of his life. “Thank God,” he adds.

“Lenny Tavárez, you are a genius and a saint. If Justin asks, I insisted.” Before Lenny can argue, Jacob squirms and Jen adjusts her hold. She must see the look on Lenny’s face, because she asks, “Do you want to hold him?”

Lenny hesitates. Jacob is so _small_ — well, Lenny supposes he’s normal-sized for a two-day-old baby, but Lenny is picturing the first time he held Ivy, and she was already two months old then. Jen opens her mouth to reassure him, or maybe to retract the offer, but Lenny speaks first. “Yes.”

And then the infant is in his arms. Jacob stares up at Lenny, and Lenny can’t do anything but stare back. For a minute, Lenny is staring at little Ivy, so tiny and helpless, not yet a queen or a star or a diva. Lenny blinks back tears.

But Jacob, two days old, doesn’t know how to blink them back. His face scrunches up like a raisin, and then he wails like the world is ending. Lenny may miss baby-Ivy, but he’s glad she’s old enough now to — mostly, at least — express her feelings with words. “It’s okay,” Lenny says to Jacob.

Just as Lenny is handing the baby back to his mother, Feid comes back into the nursery. “Oh, Lenny, you made him cry?”

“Hilarious,” Lenny says. “Crib’s sorted.”

“Knew you could do it.” Feid kisses Lenny on the cheek. “Jen, Justin doesn’t know what he’s doing with the TV.”

Jen sighs. “Of course not. Sorry. I’ll be right back.”

“We’ll clean up here,” Lenny promises.

Once Jen is gone, Feid kisses Lenny again. “Thinking about another baby?”

“No,” Lenny says automatically. Then, more firmly, “No. The one we have is more than enough.”

“And she doesn’t need a crib anymore,” Feid adds.

“Exactly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter thirty-one title from [impulsivo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZBKx0ElrBds).


	32. pa’ jugar como niños, darnos cariño [jun 2031]

Lenny collapses face-down onto the towel beside Feid, sending a wave of sand up over both of them, but Lenny doesn’t make any move to brush himself off. Feid shakes out his notebook and nudges Lenny. “Tired?”

“No,” Lenny says into the towel.

“You’re getting old.”

“ _You’re_ getting old.”

Feid looks out at the water where the kids are still playing. From here, it looks like their energy is infinite, but Feid knows Ivy will crash the minute they step back into the apartment. At least she’ll be too worn out to be bored.

Their group takes up a wide stretch of beach: seventeen-year-old Max and his friends at one end, Zara and her middle-school friends hovering around Yza and her sophomore group in the middle, and Patricia and Justin with the little ones on the other end. Juan, Jen, and baby Jacob are a few feet away from Feid and Lenny. 

“Where’s Dalex?” Feid asks.

“Mm.” Lenny props himself up on his elbows. “Janlex needed interview clothes, I think. Is my back burning?”

Feid touches Lenny’s back lightly. He can see perfectly well that it isn’t burning, but he says, “Some more sunscreen wouldn’t hurt.”

Lenny seems to catch the hint. “Will you do it?”

In answer, Feid reaches for the sunscreen bottle. Lenny lays down again, resting his head on his arms and looking up at Feid. As soon as the cream hits his skin, though, he flinches. “Cold,” he says.

Feid just laughs. He rubs Lenny’s back slowly, across his shoulders, down his arms, careful to catch every square inch. Lenny hums and closes his eyes. _This_ will never get old, Feid thinks. Touching Lenny, tracing his tattoos, feeling the muscles move under his skin. The engagement ring spins on Feid’s finger as he runs his hands across Lenny’s body.

Lenny murmurs something, but Feid can’t hear him over the music and the water. When Feid leans in, though, Lenny just shakes his head. His eyes are still closed, and he has a small smile on his face. _I love you_ , he mouths silently.

Trying to ignore the wet sand on his towel, Feid lies down beside Lenny. He kisses him gently, then a little less gently. Soon, they’re pressed together, both sand and their friends’ eyes almost entirely forgotten. Lenny’s mouth tastes like ocean salt, his skin radiating heat.

Just as Feid is about to suggest that they let Patricia watch Ivy for a little bit while they go back up to the apartment, someone clears their throat and startles them both. Feid and Lenny pull apart and squint up into the sun.

“Get a room, you two,” Max says.

He’s gone, water gun in hand, before either of them can respond. It wasn’t said with malice or even annoyance — Max was smiling, nearly laughing — but Feid can still feel his face turning red. Lenny rolls over and rubs his eyes. “Salo, are we bad parents?”

“I don’t think so,” Feid says. “Why?”

“Somebody else is watching our kid while we lie here and make out.” He sounds genuinely concerned, but Lenny’s hand still slides over to touch Feid’s leg as he talks. “Lying here where everybody can see us.”

Feid catches Lenny’s hand and kisses his fingers. “You know, you’re right. We’re terrible parents.”

“The worst.”

“What should we do about it?”

Feid expects Lenny to keep flirting, maybe to say something about going home. Instead, Lenny stands up and holds his hand out to Feid. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“Do you trust me?”

“No.”

But Feid takes Lenny’s hand anyway. He lets himself be pulled up, standing too close to Lenny but not close enough. They stand there for one long moment, then Lenny turns and pulls Feid down the beach.

Juan wolf-whistles as they pass. Lenny rolls his eyes.

When they reach the edge of the water, Lenny drops Feid’s hand and dives in. He comes up a moment later, sputtering and shaking the hair out of his eyes. “What are you doing?” Feid calls.

“Setting a bad example,” Lenny calls back. “Come on.”

Feid doesn’t dive in, but he does wade out to meet Lenny. The water is pleasantly cold, and it makes the sun on his face feel even warmer. As soon as Feid reaches him, though, Lenny goes under again. He pops back up a few feet deeper, still beckoning for Feid to follow him.

Soon, they’re out far enough that Feid can barely stand with his face above water. Lenny, a few feet ahead, is treading water. Feid turns back. Ivy — he thinks it’s Ivy; it’s hard to tell from so far away — is waving. He waves back.

“What’s the plan here?” he asks Lenny.

“I already said,” Lenny says. “We’re setting a bad example.”

Then Lenny is on Feid again, arms wrapped around him, kissing him hard. Their feet barely brush the sandy floor of the ocean, but it’s not the first time Feid has felt like he’s floating while kissing Lenny. He pulls him closer, not even allowing the water to get between them.

Now, the rest of the world really does fade away. Nothing and no one can reach them out here. If a rogue wave decided to sweep them both away right now, Feid thinks he might thank it.

“Are you trying to drown me?” he says into Lenny’s mouth.

“Yes,” Lenny replies. “Is it working?”

“Yes.”

A minute or an hour later, Feid touches Lenny’s cheek and pulls away. “We should head back.”

“We should,” Lenny echoes.

“Be parents.”

“Right. Good parents.”

“Right. Our friends are waiting for us, too.”

“Right.”

After another kiss or two or ten, they do go back. Lenny swims ahead again, while Feid wades after him. He feels light-headed. He hopes the sensation never goes away, no matter how old they get. As long as he has Lenny — and Ivy — loving him, he’ll be young.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter thirty-two title from [calma](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8EFalFXALEA).
> 
> inspired by a duolingo phrase: _eu beberia o mar se você fosse o sal._


	33. no me muevo hasta que me den lo que es mío [feb 2032]

“Papi,” Ivy stage-whispers. She pats his arm frantically, then repeats more urgently, “Papi!”

Lenny turns to her. Feid, two steps behind them and still half-smiling for the cameras, doesn’t seem to notice. “What’s wrong?”

“No, no! Look. I saw another kid.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean maybe they were a really short grown-up, but…” Ivy squints back past Feid, who finally catches on and glances over his own shoulder. “I saw them. A little bit behind us. I don’t know who it was.”

Lenny looks, too, but he can’t see anything. An awards show red carpet isn’t exactly the best place for kids; they’d hesitated even to bring Ivy here. Their friends don’t do it. The other children stay home with older siblings or babysitters, but Ivy insisted.

Besides, she’s the one nominated. Tío Sky got his wish: not just an Ivy Princesa Remix with nine-year-old Ivy, but a chart-topping, award-nominated Ivy Princesa Remix. Two steps ahead of them, he’s practically glowing.

“Maybe we’ll see when we get inside,” Lenny says. “Did you see who they were with?”

“No.”

Lenny glances back one more time. No kids, no really short grown-ups. He’ll keep an eye out.

The red carpet feels like it lasts a mile. It always does, but more so today when Lenny is so aware of Ivy at his side. She’s posing for the cameras like a pro, grinning ear-to-ear and showing off her floaty red dress. She even pronounced its designer’s name flawlessly when the interviewer bent down to ask who she’s wearing. Still, Lenny can’t help but feel like he wants to pick her up and cover her face like he did when she was a baby.

Feid, as if sensing Lenny’s discomfort, catches up with them. He touches Lenny’s back lightly, and as badly as Lenny wishes he could kiss him, the touch helps. “She’s doing great,” Feid says into Lenny’s ear. Lenny can only nod.

Finally, they reach the theatre and find their seats. Lenny’s name card is in the middle, with Feid to his left and Ivy to his right. _Must be a mistake_ , he thinks. He ushers Ivy into the seat between himself and Feid. Sky sits on Feid’s other side, Marina — who must have snuck in past the red carpet — beside him.

Though he told himself he’d watch for the kid Ivy saw, Lenny finds himself scrolling through social media as he waits for the show to start. He sees his own face, Feid’s, Sky’s, Ivy’s. A lot of Ivy’s. She has _fans_ , actual fans, who desperately want her to win. The voting period is long over, but they’re still using the hashtag with her name, just in case.

Then she pokes him hard in the side. “Papi!”

He looks up just in time to see who’s sitting down in the empty seats to his right. A girl, maybe about six or seven, and — “Cazzu?”

Cazzu’s face breaks into a wide smile when she recognizes Lenny. He stands to hug her, and Feid offers her an air-hug from down the row. “Long time,” she laughs.

“Too long,” Lenny says. “Who’s this?”

Cazzu touches the little girl’s head. The kid is half-hiding behind her, eyeing Ivy. “My daughter,” Cazzu says, “Mary. Mary, my friends Lenny and Feid, and… Ivy, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ivy says, and Lenny tries not to let his pride show.

They rearrange seats so the children can sit together while Cazzu and Lenny catch up. Yes, Lenny and Feid are engaged; no, they haven’t set a date yet. Yes, Mary really is Cazzu’s daughter; no, there’s no father to speak of.

“She’s just mine,” Cazzu said, and that was that.

By the time the lights go down, Ivy and Mary are talking and laughing like they’ve known each other all their lives. Ivy’s charm is irresistible.

During the show, especially the performances, Lenny can’t help but watch the the kids. They’re enthralled; Ivy has been to plenty of concerts before, but awards shows are different somehow. Mary’s mouth actually drops open at one of the bigger productions, and Lenny and Cazzu both have to suppress their laughter.

At the first commercial break, Ivy and Mary blink like they’ve been woken up from a vivid dream. Ivy catches on quickly, though. Two years older and therefore infinitely wiser, she explains to Mary: no, the show’s not over, it’ll be back soon. Mary nods, wide-eyed.

“She’s going to be a teacher when she grows up,” Cazzu says to Lenny.

“I can see it,” Lenny says. “Though this morning she said she wanted to be a fashion designer. What does Mary say?”

“We watched that new dinosaur movie last weekend, so now she wants to be a paleontologist. Before that, she liked to practice being a vet.”

Lenny raises his eyebrows. “Practice?”

“Yeah… we learned that cats don’t really like people listening to their heartbeats. Or giving them haircuts. Didn’t we?”

“Mamá!” Mary cries. She’s blushing a deep red.

Cazzu kisses the top of her head. “Love you.”

The lights go down again before Lenny can counter with an equally embarrassing story of Ivy. As always, she looks like she can read his mind — she shoots him a silent _don’t you dare_ warning. He just winks in response.

Soon, a familiar presenter steps up to the mic. Ivy straightens in her seat.

“And now,” the presenter says, “the nominees for Remix del Año.”

Ivy reaches across Feid’s lap to hold Sky’s hand while the names are read. The pause as the presenter opens the envelope is agonizing. Lenny’s hands are sweating. Cazzu pats his knee.

“The remix of the year is… ‘Mi Vida Remix,’ La Linda and Paloma Mami!”

Even over the crowd’s cheering, Lenny can hear Ivy’s heart break. “Oh,” she says softly. _Next year_ , Sky mouths, and Ivy nods.

“Sorry,” Cazzu says softly.

“She’ll be okay,” Lenny says.

When he looks again, Ivy is clapping for the winners, though she’s leaning into Feid’s shoulder while she does it. She’s not even crying. She _will_ be okay — and Sky’s right, too. Next year, the award will be hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter thirty-three title from [esquina](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CDO0nlRv98s).


	34. mira que este mundo da mil vueltas [ago 2032]

Yza shows up late to watch Ivy, which means Lenny and Feid leave late for the restaurant, which means their friends are already one drink in by the time they show up. “Sorry,” Feid says as he sits down. He expects Lenny to echo him, but when he turns to him, Lenny is still standing. “What’s wrong?”

“Salo, I don’t think you’re allowed at this table.”

Feid looks around. Nothing seems out of place. “Why not?”

“Julio,” Lenny says, pointing to himself. Then he points at each of their friends around the table. “Juan. Jose. Justin. Jen. And you.”

A beat passes. Everyone looks at each other. Then they all burst into laughter. “Sit down, Julio,” Juan says. Lenny, shaking his head, does, claiming the seat between Jen and Feid.

“We should’ve brought the kids,” Justin says. Jen rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling.

A waiter appears before anyone else can make a crack about Feid’s name. They order drinks — first for Feid and Lenny, second for the others — and skim the menu. “How are you all doing?” Feid asks idly as he reads.

“Actually,” Jose says. From the corner of his eye, Feid sees Juan elbow him, but Jose presses on. “There’s a reason we asked you two to come here.”

Feid’s head snaps up. All four of their friends are smiling softly. Whatever this reason is, it’s not _bad_ news, at least. “Congratulations,” Feid and Lenny say in unison — Feid to Juan and Jose, Lenny to Justin and Jen.

“No,” Juan says.

“Not us,” Jen says.

“What?” Jose says.

“Definitely not,” Justin says.

“Um,” Lenny says.

Feid doesn’t say anything. His mind is whirring, searching for possibilities. Maybe it _is_ bad news. Maybe someone is moving away. Maybe Feid or Lenny said something wrong the last time they all saw each other, and they’re all offended. Or maybe it’s work-related, a song idea, a collab with all of them, that extended remix they half-jokingly promised Lenny a decade ago.

The waiter returns. Feid chooses something from the menu at random.

Alone again, there’s another beat of silence. Finally, Justin turns to Jose. “Well, you brought it up. Want to do the honors?”

Jose clears his throat, then takes a sip of his drink. He must catch Feid’s raised eyebrow, because he shakes his head. “Relax, Mom, it’s virgin. Anyway. We wanted to talk to you two about the wedding.”

“What wedding?” Lenny asks.

“That’s the problem,” Jen says.

“I’m lost,” Feid says, but it’s a lie. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going.

“Yours,” Juan says. “Your wedding. You are having one, right?”

“You’ve been engaged two years and we haven’t heard a word,” Jose says.

Feid and Lenny look at each other. It’s been two years? But yes, of course it has, because they had an anniversary last year and another one is coming up next week. They don’t even have plans for that next week, nine years together if Feid’s math is right, let alone a _wedding_.

“We… are having one,” Lenny says slowly. Feid nods, so Lenny continues more confidently. “Eventually. Right? It takes time.”

“We’ve been busy,” Feid says. He realizes that he hasn’t touched his drink yet; he takes a sip, and the alcohol burns. He takes another. It distracts from the burning in his cheeks.

“You know we’ve all planned weddings before, hon, right?” Jen asks. Feid glances at Juan, but he’s looking intently back at Feid.

“So have I,” Lenny blurts. “In case you all forgot. I know how it goes.”

Feid takes another drink and tries to ignore the twinge in his chest. He never met Lenny’s ex-wife, but he still doesn’t like to think about her. She doesn’t loom quite as large as Laura does in Lenny’s past, but Feid can’t help but wonder if she’s part of the reason Lenny has been reluctant to discuss wedding plans.

And, technically, Feid has planned a wedding too. It didn’t happen, didn’t even get to the engagement, but he knows how it goes, too — at least in theory.

“This is like an intervention, then,” Feid says.

“Something like that,” Juan says. “We’re going to help you.” He sets a notepad and pen on the table, and Feid wonders whether he’s had that on his lap the whole time. “Think of it like an interview.”

Lenny touches Feid’s leg under the table, and Feid takes his hand and squeezes. He doesn’t want to do this. He wanted a nice night out with his friends, a couple of drinks, a couple of hours to be adults instead of parents. He doesn’t want to be interviewed.

He wants to marry Lenny, though. Procrastination aside, he still wants it as badly as he did two years ago and seven years before that. And though they don’t talk about it, if the songs Lenny has written recently have been any indication, he wants it badly too.

“Fine,” Feid says.

“Ask away,” Lenny says.

“Where’s it going to be?”

“Medellín,” they answer together. “In a castle,” Lenny adds.

“When?”

That one’s harder. They hesitate, glancing at each other. “Soon?” Feid offers. Juan writes down _mañana_. “Not tomorrow,” Feid says. Juan adds _pasado_ in the margin.

“Lenny. Best man?”

“Daddy Yankee.”

Juan snorts, but writes it down anyway.

They continue like that, their friends shooting rapid-fire questions, Juan writing down everything Feid and Lenny say — or his interpretation of it, at least. By the time Feid finishes his drink, he’s almost having fun. It _is_ kind of like an interview, or a party game. Serious answers and ridiculous suggestions mix to form the outline of what could be the best or worst wedding of all time.

They don’t stop, and Feid doesn’t drop Lenny’s hand, until their food arrives. Juan reluctantly puts the notepad away.

“So what about you two?” Lenny asks casually.

Juan and Jose share a glance. “Us?”

“Are we planning your wedding next?”

Jose nearly chokes on his first bite. Justin and Jen try to suppress their laughter. Lenny smiles as if his question was the most normal in the world, and Feid is just happy that the focus is off of them for a minute.

“Tomorrow,” Juan says, and then they’re all laughing. Finally, Feid relaxes fully. This _will_ be a normal night out, teasing each other and joking and drinking. And tomorrow, maybe, he’ll call home and ask about that castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter thirty-four title from [parce](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k_WvAH3AE1w).


	35. tú y yo sabemos que no soy un ángel [oct 2032]

Lenny doesn’t bother knocking before throwing open the door to the office. He hardly hears the secretary’s attempts to stop him. Ivy looks so small in her chair, curled up and sniffling, that he almost doesn’t see her, either.

“What happened?” he demands.

“Have a seat, Mr. Tavárez,” the principal says, unfazed.

Lenny considers declining, but he knows it won’t do any good. He sits down beside Ivy. Suddenly he feels very small, too, like the act of sitting down transported him back to his own elementary school principal’s office. But no, he has to remember why he’s here. He’s the parent.

“What happened?” he repeats.

“Well --” the principal starts, but Lenny cuts him off.

“I wasn’t asking you.” He turns to his daughter. “Ivy?”

Ivy wipes her nose. Lenny can see a bruise darkening on her cheek, and his vision blurs. He has to take several deep breaths to calm himself. In, out, count to ten. She’s fine.

“I got in a fight,” she says. Lenny waits for her to say more, but she seems to be done.

“With who?” he prompts.

“Jack.”

“Why?”

“Mr. Tav--”

“Let her tell it,” Lenny snaps at the principal. He got into enough fights as a kid to know how this normally goes, and he wants to give Ivy the opportunity that his parents never gave him. If she’s fighting, she must have a good reason.

“No reason,” Ivy mumbles.

But she won’t look him in the eye, and she knows he knows when she’s lying. The principal opens his mouth, but Lenny holds up a hand. No one says a word; they just wait for Ivy to finish.

Finally, she says, “He said some bad stuff.”

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know. Bad stuff. I don’t want to say it.”

Lenny wants to push, but Ivy’s on the verge of tears again, so he turns back to the principal. “Okay, so? Where’s Jack?”

The principal clears his throat. “Well, since Ivy hit Jack first, she --”

“He hit me, too!” Ivy blurts. “He’s not gonna get in trouble for what he said?”

“We’ve already talked to Jack,” the principal says calmly. “But, Ivy, fighting isn’t the answer, no matter what the other person said. We have rules for a reason. I have to give you three days of in-school suspension. You understand that, right?”

Ivy nods, but she still doesn’t make eye contact with either Lenny or the principal. Lenny’s anger bubbles up into his throat again. This isn’t right. They’re getting half the story at best, if they already talked to Jack. And Ivy shouldn’t be punished for whatever this kid said.

“Can I talk to you alone for a moment, Mr. --” Lenny glances down at the nameplate on the principal’s desk. “-- Spencer?”

“Of course.”

A moment later, Ivy is in the hall, Lenny sitting forward in his chair. He forces his voice level. “Mira. You’ve been Ivy’s principal since kindergarten. Has she _ever_ been in trouble before?”

“No, but --”

“Right, no. She doesn’t cause problems. She doesn’t pick fights sin razón. She told you herself that this kid said something bad to her, apparently bad enough that she wanted to hit him. Do you know what he said?”

“She wouldn’t say.”

“And of course he didn’t.”

“No.”

“Déjame hab--” Lenny stops himself, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath through his nose, and tries again. “Let me talk to her.”

“We have --”

“I know about your rules. But I’m sure you can make an exception if she was… provoked. I’m not saying she shouldn’t be punished at all. But three days seems a bit, ah, a lot, right? Let me find out what he said to her. She’ll tell me, or if not, she’ll tell her stepdad. We’ll call you.”

“That’s not really how it --”

Lenny didn’t want to play his last card, but the principal doesn’t seem ready to compromise. He sits back in the chair. “Or, you know, we can look again at the donation we were going to make for the PTA.”

In the car on the way home, Ivy asks, “What did you say to him?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” Lenny replies. He glances at her in the rearview mirror. “You know you can tell me anything, right, nena?”

“I know.”

“Even if Jack used a bad word or something. You’re not in trouble with me.”

Ivy takes a deep breath. She looks up at the ceiling and knots her hands together like she’s praying, the same thing Lenny does when he’s forcing himself not to cry. He resists the urge to do it now. When she finally speaks, her voice is shaky.

“He said I’m probably gay since I have two dads, and ’cause I always hang out with Itzel who’s not a boy and not a girl. But he didn’t say gay, he said a bad word. I told him it’s not a bad thing to be gay -- I didn’t use the bad word -- and if I was it doesn’t matter.”

“Good girl,” Lenny says softly.

“But then I guess he figured out that that didn’t bother me, so he said I’m dumb ’cause we talk in Spanish at home, and… and how you and Cucho probably don’t even know English at all. And he said some words that I don’t even know what they mean but I think they were bad. I told him I’m smarter than him ’cause I know two languages and he just knows one.”

“That’s right,” Lenny says.

“And then he said my mom didn’t want me. So I hit him.”

Lenny wants to say _good girl_ again, but he doesn’t. More than that, he wants to turn around, go back to the school, find Jack’s address, and have some words of his own with the kid, but he doesn’t do that, either. He just nods. He knew he was right -- he knows his daughter. And he knows he’s not a perfect parent, but right now, he feels pretty good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter thirty-five title from [te lo metí](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGNKyWdv7nk)


	36. yo te bajé la luna [feb 2033]

The minute Juan dropped Itzel and Ivy off after school, the kids banished Feid and Lenny into their bedroom. They’ve now been there for the better part of two hours with little more than the occasional shouted assurance that everything is okay. Lenny seems perfectly fine lounging on the bed with his phone, but Feid is getting antsy.

“Come lie down,” Lenny says without looking up.

“I can’t.” Feid bounces on the balls of his feet as he stares out the window. “What are they even doing?”

“They said it was a surprise,” Lenny says.

“So do you know?”

“Nope. But I trust them.” He shrugs. “Well, I trust Itzel. It’s probably fine.”

Feid snorts a laugh. He sits down heavily by Lenny’s feet, then falls back to lie down across the bed. “I guess we should trust them. They’re almost teenagers.”

Lenny nudges Feid’s side with his foot. “Don’t remind me.”

“I’m giving them —” Feid glances at his watch. “— ten more minutes. Then I’m going out there.”

As if on cue, Ivy calls through the closed door, “We’re almost done. Where do we keep the matches?”

“No matches,” Feid calls back. Then, to Lenny, “They’re going to burn the whole building down.”

“They are not,” Lenny says. Then, to Ivy, “There’s a lighter in the drawer next to the stove.”

“Thanks, Papi!”

Feid props himself up on one elbow and stares at Lenny. Lenny ignores him for as long as he can, then glances away from his phone. “What? They’re responsible. Do you remember being eleven?”

“Yes. That’s the problem.”

“Please. You’ve probably never been in trouble in your life. They’re more responsible than I was at that age, anyway.”

“I’ve been in trouble.”

“Yeah? For something more serious than not doing some homework?”

Feid opens his mouth, then closes it. He lets himself drop onto his back again, staring up at the ceiling. He scratches his forehead. “Jose and I did some stupid shit back in the day.”

Lenny puts his phone down and sits up straighter. “Sure. But did you ever get in _trouble_ for it? Were there any consequences for your stupid shit?”

“Sure.” Feid thinks for a minute. “Probably.”

“If you can’t remember, that’s a no. What about when you were younger? Like Ivy’s age?”

“Is this a conversation or an interrogation?”

“I’m just curious.”

Feid sighs. Lenny’s right; he was a good kid. But he doesn’t want to say that. “Once, when I was nine or so, Manu and I were playing — I don’t even know what, chasing each other around the house. Anyway, one of us bumped the other, and we both fell down, and we took one of our dad’s paintings down with us. It hit the corner of a table or something on the way down, cracked the frame, tore a hole in the canvas. We were grounded for like two weeks.”

Lenny smiles. “Well, good thing we make music; no art for Ivy and Itzel to break. They’re fine.”

Feid, still anxious, manages to laugh. He sits up, then shifts to straddle Lenny, knees on either side of his hips. “You’re right. They’re fine.”

Lenny rests his hands on Feid’s thighs and looks him up and down. “I think your ten minutes are nearly up. Are you going to go check on them?”

“Maybe we can give them ten more.”

But Feid barely has Lenny’s shirt off when Lenny stops him with a hand on his chest. “Hold on. Do you smell —”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish the sentence. A shrill beeping fills the apartment, and then yes, Feid does smell it: the faintest whiff of smoke.

They both leap out of bed, Lenny not bothering to put his shirt back on. Feid remembers something about feeling the door before opening it, but his hands are moving faster than his brain — he throws the door open.

“It’s fine!” Ivy yells over the alarm. “There’s no fire, it’s just smoke. What do we do?”

Lenny snaps into action before Feid can. “Itzel, open the front door. Salo, the back and the windows. Ivy, show me what burnt. We have two minutes ’til the alarms in the rest of the building go off.”

They make it just in time, by Feid’s count. When the alarm finally stops, he takes a deep breath and looks around properly for the first time. Ivy wasn’t entirely honest; there is fire, but it’s contained, three tiny tea light candles in cups on the table. The table itself is covered in a white cloth, set with two red construction-paper placemats, plates and silverware, and wine glasses. Itzel straightens one of the flowers in the centerpiece.

When Feid is able to speak, he asks, “What is this?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Itzel says.

“We thought...” Ivy swallows hard, then tries again. “We thought, since it’s Valentine’s Day, and you can’t go on a real date ’cause you’re with us while Tío Juan is out, we thought we’d make you a fancy dinner here.”

“But we burnt the bread,” Itzel says.

Feid doesn’t look at Lenny. He _can’t_ look at Lenny, but out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lenny press his hand to his mouth, probably trying not to cry. Feid, on the verge of tears himself, forces himself to smile. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Lenny echoes.

Ivy glances over her shoulder into the kitchen. “We still have the pasta and dessert. I mean, it’s not actually fancy ’cause we’re kids, but…”

Lenny and Feid both laugh. “It’s perfect,” Lenny says.

“Better than perfect,” Feid says. “Is there enough for four?”

“But it’s —” Itzel starts, but Feid cuts them off with a shake of his head.

“It’s a day about love, right?”

Lenny nods. “Right. And we love you both. Let us help you finish up, and we can all eat together.”

Ivy and Itzel look at each other. They communicate silently like twins, or like an old married couple. Feid glances at Lenny, and Lenny’s tiny half-smile tells him everything he needs to know.

Feid rubs his hands together. “Okay, Chefs. How can we help?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter thirty-six title from [14 de febrero](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A_9FkTei198).


	37. hablemos para comprendernos más [jul 2033]

“There you are.”

Lenny blinks and turns around. He’s not sure who he expected to see, but somehow Juan still manages to surprise him. “Here I am,” Lenny says.

“What are you doing? It’s your party. Everyone is looking for you.”

“I just needed some air.”

“Mind if I join you for a second?” Lenny doesn’t answer; he just gestures at the chair beside him. Juan pulls it back, then stops. “Hang on.”

He disappears back into the noisy club, leaving Lenny alone again in the dark. A moment later, he returns with two bottles of beer in hand. He offers Lenny one, and Lenny takes it with a nod. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Juan sits. They don’t speak. In the five years since the second start to their friendship, Lenny doesn’t think he and Juan have ever been alone together for more than a minute or two. No kids, no Feid, no Jose. Lenny doesn’t know what to say.

Behind them, the bassline of some song Lenny doesn’t recognize pounds out of the club and into his chest. All his friends are inside celebrating him — or at least using him as an excuse to celebrate. To Lenny, it all seems kind of pointless. When he raises the bottle to his lips, his hand shakes.

“You sure you’re okay?” Juan asks.

“Fine. Just thinking.”

“Bachelor parties are kind of dumb, aren’t they?” Lenny snorts a laugh, and Juan continues, “I mean, they’re supposed to be your last night of ‘freedom,’ right? Before you’re trapped forever with a spouse. Like marrying somebody automatically makes you miserable.”

“Well, in my experience…”

Juan laughs. “Well, in _my_ experience, that’s not true. And you and Salo are practically married already.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking about. I don’t know why we’re doing all this.”

“Yes, you do.”

The answer catches Lenny off-guard. He takes another drink to buy time, trying to come up with a response. He does know, he thinks. Being Feid’s boyfriend, fiancé, partner, co-parent, best friend, _whatever_ — it’s fine, but it’s not enough. Some days, everything feels as delicate as it did that first morning.

“It’s like…” Lenny takes a deep breath. “You know how you see on the news that a hurricane is coming, so you get all prepared — you get food and water, pack a bag and get the car ready in case you need to leave, board up all the windows, right? But then, at some point, there’s nothing more you can do, and you’re just waiting. You almost want it to hit, just for something to happen.”

Juan nods.

“You know it’s going to be bad. Or maybe it’s not, maybe it’ll miss you and you’ll be fine. But waiting for it is worse than whatever it could actually do.”

Lenny doesn’t even know what he’s saying. The metaphor got away from him before it came out of his mouth, but he can’t seem to stop. Juan is still nodding.

“We’ve sent out invitations. Figured out who’s walking down the aisle with who and when. Picked all the music. Flowers, clothes, food, all that shit. We’re prepared. Now I’m just counting down the days til we actually do the thing. All that’s left to do is think about what could go wrong.”

“With the wedding or the marriage?”

“Both.”

Juan hums. “What’s different this time than last time?”

“Nothing. I mean, everything, but nothing. I felt like this then, too. Imagining all the worst-case scenarios. And then the worst-case scenario happened. So I felt like I was right.”

“Well, not the worst.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Why is Lenny spilling his guts to Juan, anyway? He’s not drunk enough to justify this. He takes a sip of his beer and wishes it were something stronger. He hasn’t said any of this to Feid or Justin or his sisters, so why is it all coming out now?

“My marriage wasn’t perfect,” Juan says after a long silence.

“No? Certainly looked like it.”

“It was good. Really good, mostly. But we argued a lot. About the normal stuff — she spent too much money, I didn’t spend enough time with her, we were both way too indecisive about having kids. Itzel was a surprise.”

“So was Ivy.”

Juan laughs. “So you know. We got through it, though. We never went to bed angry. I mean, you don’t need my advice. You and Salo have been together so long already. Just keep doing whatever you’re doing.”

Lenny stares out at the street, but he doesn’t see it. He’s watching his whole relationship with Feid, from colleagues to friends to best friends to parents. In all that time, he can count on two hands the number of times they’ve argued. They’ve fought less in fifteen years than Lenny and any girlfriend fought in fifteen days. Lenny doesn’t know what they’re doing, never has, but it seems to be working.

“You love him,” Juan says.

“Yeah.”

“And he loves you.”

“I hope so.”

“That wasn’t a question. He does. You’re going to be fine. And in the meantime, just enjoy it all.”

He’s right, but Lenny doesn’t want to say it. He takes another drink, and then his bottle is empty. He stands slowly. “I should go back in. It’s my party, right?”

“Right. I’m going to stay here for another minute, if you don’t mind.”

“No, no problem.” Lenny hesitates. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Juan smiles. “Enjoy your last night of freedom.”

Lenny shakes his head as he goes back into the club, but he feels inexplicably lighter. He’s still anxious, can still see the edge of the storm on the horizon, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. When the music hits him full force and someone presses a glass into his hand, he has no choice but to take the shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter thirty-seven title from [lo nuestro vale más](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UnpsfhwqIJE).


	38. como en viejos tiempos, te digo [ago 2033]

For the second time in his life, Feid finds himself standing across from Lenny in front of 150 of their friends and family. Unlike last time, though, everyone _is_ looking at him. He’s glad Sebas is holding the ring, because Feid’s shaking hands would probably send it flying before the time even came to put it on Lenny’s finger.

Lenny is smiling, but he’s tense, too; Feid can see it in his eyes and the lines around his mouth. He keeps glancing at Michelle, who’s trying hard not to smile as she reads her lines. Behind Lenny, Ivy beams.

Feid is just glad they were able to talk Michelle into getting ordained online. If this were a stranger standing up here with them, he’s not sure either of them would be able to hold it together. So far, Feid has done okay, though. He’s nervous, happier than he’s ever been, ready for this to be over, but he hasn’t cried yet.

Yet.

“Julito,” Michelle says. “You ready?”

Lenny nods. When he pulls a folded-up piece of paper out of his pocket, Feid can see his hands shaking, too. Lenny clears his throat once, then a second time. Feid bites his tongue.

“Salomón, Salo, Feid, Ferxxo, Cucho, Spider-man, whatever you call yourself…” Lenny pauses, and a rumble of laughter rolls through the room.

Lenny takes a deep breath and continues, “Whatever you call yourself, I call you my best friend. And starting today, I promise to call you my husband. I promise to call you Ivy’s dad. I promise to call you first if I wreck my car again.”

More laughter. Feid smiles to keep from tearing up.

“When I showed up at your door panicking and ready to hand Ivy off to the next stranger who called her cute —”

“Hey!” Ivy interjects. Lenny reaches back, and she squeezes his hand.

“I never expected we’d end up here. I never thought I’d fall in love with you. But I did, and I’m so glad I did. I promise to stay in love with you until the end, or until you change your name again.”

Feid shakes his head. _I won’t_ , he mouths. The threat of tears is stronger than ever, but he refuses to let them out. At least he feels less anxious about his own vows now.

“I’m a better person for having met you, and even better for having fallen in love with you. You’re always challenging me, pushing me, encouraging me. Even when I get annoyed with you, I love you. I can’t imagine a life without you, and I don’t want to. We’re a good team. And I promise that we’ll always be a family.”

Eventually, Lenny looks up at Feid. The eye contact is almost too much — and then it is. Feid breaks. Even as the tears spill over, he laughs. He has no idea how he’s going to get his own words out, but he has to try.

“Now I have to make you cry,” he says, low enough that only those standing up with them can hear. Lenny grins.

The words on his own folded piece of paper blur in front of his eyes. He’s practiced this so many times that he has the lines memorized, but he still stares down at it, willing himself to make it through. Just a few short lines, and then they’ll be married.

“Julio Manuel González Tavárez, I love you. It wasn’t love at first sight, but I think even when we met, lo sabíamos, que iba a suceder. Enamorarse nunca fue una opción; it was always bound to happen sooner or later. Estás más duro que ayer; we’ll keep growing together. Luchemos por nuestro amor, no matter what anyone else says. I’ll be the best partner and parent that I can be. I’ll keep trying to make you better — and myself, too. Esta noche, y todas las noches, quiero hacerte mío. I love you.”

For a long moment after he finishes, Feid can’t meet Lenny’s eye. With the blood rushing in his ears, he has no idea if anyone laughed, or cried, or tried to boo him out of his own wedding. He doesn’t want to see Lenny’s reaction.

But then the tension becomes unbearable, and he looks up. Lenny’s not crying, but his eyes are shining, and that’s good enough for Feid. He wants nothing more than to kiss him in this moment, but that has to wait — he wills Michelle to read faster.

Finally, promises made, rings exchanged, words read, Michelle closes her book. “Okay,” she says. “We’ve waited long enough, right? You may kiss your husband.”

And they do. The room erupts in cheers and applause, and Feid smiles against Lenny’s mouth when Ivy shouts, “Yeah!”

For a second, Feid is transported back to their first public kiss so long ago. The same eyes watching them, the same voices cheering. Someone back then, Feid can’t remember who, said she knew it — today, Feid is inexplicably grateful to her. He knew it, too.

Then, after a minute or an hour, the music starts, and they pull apart. Hand-in-hand, _married_ , Ivy holding Lenny’s other hand, they make their way out past their friends and family. Feid tries to see each face as he passes, but his eyes are burning with tears again.

Their mothers are holding hands and crying. Itzel, Juliana, and Ivy’s other friends wave. Jose offers Feid a small salute, Flow an almost-imperceptible nod. Jen blows them a kiss, and little Jacob mimics her.

Feid feels like he’s walking on air. When they’re finally out of everyone’s line of sight, he turns to Lenny. “We did it,” he whispers.

“Yeah, we did.”

And then he kisses his husband, and if this is the hook, he’s glad to be caught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter thirty-eight title from [antes que salga el sol](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVyTKCMZDNo).
> 
> [thanks](https://genius.com/Lenny-tavarez-explicita-lyrics) to [genius](https://genius.com/Rich-music-ltd-dalex-and-sech-imaginate-lyrics) for [giving](https://genius.com/Feid-bebe-que-bien-te-ves-lyrics) me the [words](https://genius.com/Ivy-queen-cosas-de-la-vida-lyrics) to feid’s [vows](https://genius.com/Feid-and-lenny-tavarez-badwine-remix-lyrics).

**Author's Note:**

> work title from [MORXX](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9R0Pb219bw).
> 
> follow [the playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ayOTcjpg7EvCTjliRK79W?si=Dg9XTdlhRFWWmbCyi01B9g) for sneak peeks of future chapter titles.
> 
> thank you to the borrowed-names club: zara, [maria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yehwellwhatever), luiza, mónica, jenny, laura (sorry), [itzel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecelery), juliana, karina, cristina & christina, [obbel's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obbel) friend marina, roxy, cíntia, mary, and various [my first name]s from our facebook group. if you're in this list and you haven't seen your name yet (here or in [yo la radio](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25973965/chapters/63143083)) - don't worry, you will. :)


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